urmiimaE  i 


A    NOVEL 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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UFTONffinTlIRE 


A    NOVEL. 


BY  TUE   AUTHOR  OF   "THE  ODD   TRUMP,"  "HARWOOD,"  "THE  LACY  DIAMONDS,' 
"FLE.su   AND   SPIRIT,"  ETC. 


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PHILADELPHIA: 

J.  B.  lippi:n'cott  &  co. 

187  8. 


Copyright,  1878,  by  J.  B.  Lippincott  <fc  Co. 


PREFACE. 


Some  memories  of  personal  adventure,  some  rude  outlines  of  real 
character,  and  some  fragments  of  Orienti\l  superstition  are  here 
brouglit  together  to  form  The  Clifton  Picture.  The  colours  have 
been  applied  at  odd  times,  during  brief  pauses  in  a  busy  life,  whose 
chief  energies  are  employed  in  a  far  different  field  from  the  flowery 
domain  of  literature.  No  artistic  arrangement  of  contrasts  and 
harmonies,  of  lights  and  shadows,  has  been  attempted.  The  recital 
of  actual  experiences,  in  former  books,  has  once  and  again  been  at- 
tributed to  the  vagaries  of  fancy,  and  it  is  probable  a  similar  criti- 
cism awaits  the  present  volume.  But  the  cases  are  rare  in  which 
an  unknown  writer  has  received  such  gentle  treatment  from  readers 
and  critics;  and  no  one  can  be  more  profoundly  sensible  of  this 
kind  reception,  nor  more  heartily  grateful  for  it,  than  the  author  of 
the  Odd  Trump  novels. 


New  York,  May  13,  1878. 


CONTENTS. 


P^QE 


CHAPTER   I.     The  Photograph "^ 

II.  The  Raynefords l'-^ 

III.  Mr.  Daltman ^^ 

lY.     Mr.  Glendare 23 

V.  Miles 29 

VI.  Mildred ^^ 

VII.  The  "  Nellie" ^^ 

VIII.  Knighthood ^* 

IX.  A  Departure ^^ 

X.  Haidee ^* 

XI.  The  Soldiers • ^^ 

XII.  Annot ^^ 

XIII.  Some  Letters 69 

XIV.  On  the  Sea "^^ 

XV.  The  Battle ^2 

XVI.  Robbery ^^ 

XVII.  Annie  Laurie 9* 

XVIII.  Insurmountable  Obstacles 100 

XIX.  At  Hawkley 106 

XX.  The  Search  Begun 112 

XXI.  A  New  Enterprise 119 

XXII.  The  Mordaunts 125 

XXIII.  Courting 131 

XXIV.  Hardy's  Story 137 

XXV.  Fixing  the  Day 1*^ 

XXVI.  Fixed '^^ 

XXVII.  Mr.  Boston 156 

XXVIII.  The  Chase 163 

XXIX.  Across  Channel 1™ 

XXX.  Fishing 1^7 

5 


6  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTEK  XXXI.     At  Bath 183 

XXXII.  The  Picture 189 

XXXIII.  Sista 196 

XXXIV.  Disinterested  Affections 202 

XXXV.  The  Start 209 

XXXVI.  A  Proposal 215 

XXXVII.  The  Abduction 221 

XXXVIII.  The  Rescue 227 

XXXIX.  The  Arrest 232 

XL.     Cross-Examined 239 

XLI.     Mr.  Plimpton 245 

XLII.     The  Meeting 251 

XLIII.     A  Challenge 257 

XLIV.     Eeunion 263 

XLV.     The  Picture 269 

XLVI.     Mr.  Dancer 275 

XLVII.     Hyland's  Perplexities 281 

XLVIII.     To  Brenfam  Mills 287 

XLIX.     The  Will  and  Letters 293 

L.     The  Overcoat 299 

LI.     Tulwar  and  Picture 305 

LII.     L'Envoi 311 


THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 


CHAPTER  I. 
The  Photograph. 


W 


HEN  the  tide  fills  the  bed  of  the  Avon,  Clifton  Downs  is  one 
of  the  most  pleasant  localities  in  pleasant  England.  Twice 
in  the  day  the  channel  is  full,  and  from  Bristol  to  St.  Vincent's 
Rocks,  you  may  find  numbers  of  sea-going  steamers  passing  up  and 
down,  and  always  attracting  the  attention  of  the  loungers  on  the 
Downs  and  the  Suspension  bridge.  There  is  a  railway  on  each  bank 
of  the  river,  one  of  them  connecting  Clifton  with  a  port  at  the  head 
of  Bristol  Channel,  passing  through  several  miniature  tunnels.  From 
the  high  rocks  on  the  north  bank  the  trains  slipping  along  the  rails 
look  like  toy-carriages,  and  when  passengers  alight  at  the  station 
they  look  like  Liliputians,  and  the  loungers  above  mentioned  won- 
der how  they  will  ever  climb  the  rocks  and  so  reach  the  level  of  the 
Downs. 

Coming  across  the  Suspension  bridge  in  a  pony-carriage,  one  of 
these  loungers  stops  to  watch  the  train,  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
below  him.  A  veritable  lounger.  Too  indolent  to  drive,  the  reins 
are  wrapped  around  the  whip,  and  he  manages  the  pony  orally.  He 
is  twenty-five  at  least.  A  brown  beard  covers  the  lower  part  of  his 
face,  hiding  his  mouth,  except  at  the  corner,  where  a  cigar  parts  his 
thick  moustache.  The  train  slides  under  the  tunnel,  emerges  again, 
and  stops  at  the  station,  while  a  dozen  passengers  alight. 

"  If  those  fellows  would  only  stand  still  a  moment,"  he  mutters, 
"  I'd  take  them.  They  look  like  a  colony  of  ants  swarming  about 
down  there.     No  use!     Get  along.  Tommy !" 

Tommy  wagged  his  ears,  and  proceeded  soberly  onward.  He 
knew  the  legal  pace  across  the  bridge.  When  he  passed  through 
the  great  portal  on  the  Clifton  side,  he  struck  a  trot,  turned  up 
towards  the  Observatory,  and  halted  when  he  reached  its  base. 

The  gentleman  alighted.     You  would  not  hesitate  to  give  him 

7 


8  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

this  title,  as  he  stood  there  idly,  under  the  August  sun,  in  a  vel- 
veteen coat  and  felt  hat.  He  took  a  tripod  from  the  carriage,  then 
a  photographer's  camera,  placed  it  upon  the  tripod,  and,  peering 
through,  got  the  Observatory  into  focus.  He  was  quite  deliberate 
in  his  movements,  and  when  he  had  arranged  his  apparatus,  the 
passengers  had  surmounted  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  some 
of  them  were  strolling  over  the  Downs.  As  he  withdrew  his  head 
from  under  the  cloth  that  excluded  the  light  from  his  instrument, 
he  noticed  an  obstruction  between  him  and  the  Observatory. 

A  feminine  obstruction,  of  course. 

It  was  a  girl  who  had  just  climbed  the  Zigzag.  Instead  of  going 
to  the  hotel  with  her  escort,  she  had  left  him  to  attend  to  the  be- 
stowal of  luggage,  and  raced  out  to  the  Downs.  She  had  seen  that 
duck  of  a  bridge  three  or  four  times  while  in  the  train,  and  life  was 
a  burden  until  she  stood  upon  it.  But  she  came  to  the  Observatory 
first,  and  paused  to  examine  that  structure.  How  should  she  know 
that  the  photographer  was  waiting  ? 

He  waited  with  exemplary  patience,  while  she  flitted  across  his 
line  and  back  again.  She  wore  a  lilac-coloured  dress,  with  delicate 
little  sprigs  running  over  it,  a  straw  hat,  pushed  backward,  and  a 
shower  of  brown  curls  falling  below  it.  Rather  a  pretty  child,  he 
thought.  So  did  Tommy,  as  she  stopped  her  restless  flitting  a  tran- 
sient instant  to  pat  his  neck.  The  photographer  lighted  a  fresh 
cigar,  and  was  about  to  withdraw  the  slide  of  the  camera,  when  she 
suddenly  darted  into  his  "  field"  again. 

There  was  a  post  standing  near  the  Observatory,  with  a  printed 
placard  upon  it.  It  was  a  gala-day  in  Clifton,  and  there  were  to  be 
fireworks  at  the  gardens.  She  w^as  apparently  absorl)ed  in  the 
announcement  of  the  festivities,  as  she  stood  with  upturned  face, 
directly  in  the  artist's  way. 

"  Three-quarter  face !"  said  he,  "  and  still  as  a  mouse.  I'll  take 
her !"  He  withdrew  the  slide,  and  watching  her  narrowly,  dropped 
the  cloth  over  the  instrument  before  she  moved.  That  August  sun 
had  settled  her  destiny  in  less  than  a  minute. 

He  gathered  up  his  implements  and  replaced  them  in  his  vehicle, 
passing  her  with  a  grave  bow.  She  looked  eagerly  at  him  out  of 
startled  gray  eyes,  bowed  in  return,  and  then  walked  sedately  around 
the  Observatory.  When  Tommy  recrossed  the  bridge  a  few  minutes 
later,  she  was  standing  at  the  rail,  looking  down  into  Nightingale 
Valley.    There  are  few  lovelier  views  upon  the  surface  of  this  planet. 

"  Not  so  young  as  I  thought !"  said  the  artist,  as  Tommy  took 


THE  PHOTOGRAPU.  9 

him  jnist  the  graceful  figure.  "  Eighteen,  I  fancy.  I  wonder  how 
she  took  ?"  If  he  had  known  how  intently  she  was  watching  him, 
he  would  have  been  less  composed  as  he  receded  from  her  view. 

Across  the  bridge  and  skirting  the  Valley.  Up  the  hillside 
Tommy  walking  soi)crly.  There  was  no  law  against  trotting  there, 
but  the  law  of  the  summer  sun.  Arrival  at  last  at  the  pretty  little 
cottage  where  the  photographer  had  rooms,  Tommy  stopped.  He 
wanted  some  provender. 

The  artist  hail  constructed  a  dark  closet  with  boards  and  curtains, 
and  this  seriously  reduced  the  area  of  his  sitting-room.  Into  this 
den  he  entered,  and  performed  all  those  mysterious  operations  by 
which  photographic  pictures  are  made  presentable.  Assuring  him- 
self that  his  picture  was  a  success,  there  were  some  hours  of  necessary 
delay  to  be  passed  before  the  "  negative"  could  be  made  positive. 
So,  taking  hat  and  cane,  he  started  out  for  a  walk  before  dinner. 

Should  he  go  back  to  the  Downs,  and  try  to  get  another  sight  of 
the  girl  ?  Xo  !  Bother  the  girl !  Most  likely  he  would  never  see 
her  again.  By-the-bye,  he  had  her  picture  though  !  Now  there  were 
probably  half  a  dozen  fellows  who  would  give  any  price  he  might 
please  to  ask  for  that  picture.  But  he  would  not  sell  it.  The 
Observatory  was  beautifully  taken  in  the  background.  He  would 
take  it  full  size  first,  then  he  would  take  a  small  carte.  Then  he 
would  obliterate  the  background,  and  take  her  in  miniature  for  a 
locket. 

With  these  thoughts  in  his  mind,  he  strolled  down  the  river  bank. 
Two  hours  to  spai*e.  Pipe  in  his  pocket.  He  would  walk  down  to 
Hasper  Head,  three  miles  off,  and  smoke  one  pipe  there.  Then  he 
would  climb  the  hill  and  go  back  to  dinner.  Nothing  attractive 
about  the  walk,  but  the  view  from  Hasper  Head  was  fine.  A  long 
stretch  of  the  river,  the  cliffs  on  the  other  side,  and  probably  a  lot 
of  vessels  going  up  or  down,  as  the  tide  was  in. 

There  goes  a  schooner  now,  down  stream  !  Fair  wind  and  plain 
sailing.  She  will  be  in  the  channel  in  two  hours.  Now,  it  would 
be  jolly  to  take  a  short  cruise  in  such  a  trim-looking  craft.  And 
that  reminded  him  of  Frank  Daltman  again. 

Frank  had  a  yacht  somewhere.  He  had  invited  him  to  join  him  in 
stuidry  cruises.  That  is,  some  time  ago,  before  he  took  to  vagabond- 
life.  What  would  Frank  think  of  him,  if  he  knew  he  was  photo- 
graphing all  crciition  and  selling  ])ictures?  Bother  Frank  !  He 
was  a  bad  lot  anyhow.  Why  did  he  think  about  him  so  •much 
to-day  ? 


10  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Schooner  abreast  now.  Hillo  !  she  is  tacking.  There  she  goes — 
straight  for  the  Clifton  side.  Tacking  again !  And  now  she  lies 
head  up  stream.  Surely,  she  is  not  going  back !  Anchored !  by 
this  light ! 

A  boat  lowered.  Two  men  only,  rowing  ashore.  Ah !  the  mys- 
tery is  explained.  There  is  a  lady  on  the  bank.  And  two  men. 
They  are  carrying  a  large  parcel  between  them.  In  the  boat  and 
back  to  the  schooner.  But  the  lady  is  not  with  them.  Now  the 
boat  is  hidden  by  the  hull  of  the  schooner.  Ah  !  there  they  come, 
over  the  rail,  still  carrying  the  parcel.  Anchor  up.  Now  she  swings 
round  and  off  again. 

Pipe  out.  There  goes  the  lady  up  the  cliff.  She  is  a  stunner  to 
climb ! 

Spread  out  on  the  grass,  peering  over  the  face  of  the  cliff,  he  can 
see  the  deck  of  the  schooner  as  she  passes  below.  That  parcel  is  laid 
out  on  some  shawls,  and  it  seems  to  be  vital !  Schooner  slipping 
away,  but  the  parcel  moves,  and  then  a  little  white  hand  comes  out 
and  fumbles  at  the  end  of  it.     Hillo !  what  is  up  now  ? 

The  two  men  run  up,  wrap  the  parcel  in  the  shawls,  and,  raising 
it  from  the  deck,  carry  it  to  the  companion-way.  It  is  positively 
kicking  now,  for  he  can  see  the  boots.  But  they  blunder  along,  and 
at  last  get  down  the  stairs.  Then  the  stern  of  the  schooner  comes 
into  view  and  he  sees  the  name :  "  Ariadne,  of  Glasgow." 

The  climbing  lady  is  atop  of  the  opposite  bank,  and  she  is  looking 
at  him.  Half  a  mile  distant.  He  cannot  distinguish  her  features, 
so,  of  course,  she  cannot  distinguish  his.  He  has  a  great  mind  to 
bow  to  her,  but  concludes  he  will  not.  He  lies  motionless.  She 
stands  like  a  statue.  He  might  as  well  be  asleep  or  dead,  lying 
there  in  the  sun.  The  schooner  is  turning  the  point  below,  and  the 
man  at  the  helm  is  waving  a  handkerchief.  Shall  he  return  the  sal- 
utation ?  Never  mind.  The  lady  is  doing  it.  And  she  slowly 
retires  from  the  edge  of  the  bank  as  the  vessel  disappears. 

Now  suppose  he  should  get  up  and  run  down  to  the  point  for  an- 
other glimpse  of  the  schooner?  Wait  a  moment.  Perhaps  that 
sharp-eyed  lady  will  reappear.  Sure  enough  !  There  she  is.  My 
lady,  you  came  too  soon.  He  does  not  move  a  muscle.  For  ten  min- 
utes slie  stands  there  watching  him.  There  is  a  tield-glass  hanging 
on  a  peg  in  his  cottage  room.  He  would  give  ten  pounds,  now,  for 
one  look  through  it.  He  would  like  to  know  that  lady,  if  he  should 
ever  uieet  her  again. 

She  wore  a  little  round  straw  hat,  with  a  scarlet  flower  on  one 


THE  PHOTOGRAPH.  11 

side.  He  could  see  the  brilliant  colour  across  the  strouii,  as  she 
stood  motionless  on  the  hill-top.  How  they  glared  at  each  other, 
each  deploring  the  defects  in  human  vision,  and  each  wishing  for 
the  sharp  eyes  of  the  sea-gulls,  that  were  flapping  their  leathern 
wings  far  above  the  surface  of  the  Avon,  yet  ever  and  anon  darting 
down  after  some  floating  waif  on  the  river.  By-the-bye,  there  must 
be  a  storm  brewing,  as  the  sea-birds  were  so  far  inland.  The  lady 
■was  a  statue.  The  man  was  a  log.  And  by  some  occult  mental 
process  he  knew,  when  she  finally  retired,  that  she  was  coming  to 
investigate  him.  Siie  would  walk  up  the  north  bank,  cross  the 
bridge,  and  walk  down  again  on  his  side  of  the  water. 

As  soon  as  the  lady  was  hidden  by  the  bank  he  arose  and,  throw- 
ing oft'  his  habitual  indolence,  walked  swiftly  back,  reaching  Nigiit- 
ingale  Valley  before  the  lady  could  possibly  reach  the  bridge.  Could 
he  reach  the  cottage  before  she  crossed  ?  Risky !  So  he  plunged 
into  the  covert  and  waited. 

Here  she  comes,  by  this  light !  The  round  hat  with  the  scarlet 
flower.  AValking  rapidly,  yet  with  stately  grace.  Glancing  around 
her  as  she  passed,  he  got  a  good  view  of  her  face,  not  ten  yards  dis- 
tant. Her  lull  lips,  slightly  compressed,  her  soft  blue  eyes,  full  of 
placid  watchfulness  and  suggesting  the  idea  of  unyielding  determi- 
nation, and  over  all  her  exterior  that  unmistakable  high-bred  appear- 
ance that  cannot  be  simulated  and  cannot  be  hidden.  You  would 
not  think  of  calling  her  pretty,  but  you  would  tiiink  of  Cleopatra, 
Zenobia,  and  other  historic  names  of  warlike  women.  AViien  the 
turn  of  the  road  hid  her,  the  photographer  emerged  from  his  hiding- 
place  and  resumed  his  walk.  Reaching  the  cottage,  he  sat  down  to 
meditate  while  he  smoked.  And  when  the  sun  disappeared  and  the 
nightingale  in  the  valley  began  his  evening  song  he  called  his  land- 
lady. 

"'Mrs.  Noils,"  he  said,  "  please  take  care  of  Tommy  for  a  few  days. 
I  am  called,  or  rather  sent,  somewhat  suddenly  to — to  another  part 
of  the  country." 


12  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

CHAPTER    II. 

The  Raynefords. 

"TTAWKLEY  had  belonged  to  the  Raynefords  for  twenty  gener- 
-• — ■-  ations.  It  is  an  old  stone  house  in  good  repair,  and  tlie  wall 
on  the  eastern  side  has  two  or  three  dents  in  it,  made  by  Cromwell's 
cannon-balls.  These  are  historic  marks,  and  are  carefully  preserved, 
to  illustrate  the  story  of  Miles  Rayneford,  who  was  besieged  there 
by  Roundheads  in  the  olden  time.  He  was  the  last  warrior  of  the 
race,  and  died,  sword  in  hand,  just  within  his  own  threshold.  His 
son  was  stricken  down  by  his  side,  sorely  wounded,  but  was  well 
nursed  by  Mistress  Hildah  Martin,  whose  father,  a  grim  old  Puritan, 
was  left  in  charge  of  Hawkley  after  the  battle.  The  war  drifted 
away  from  the  county,  and  young  ]\Iiles  Rayneford  was  forgotten 
by  everybody  except  pretty  Mistress  Hildah.  And  when  peace 
came,  under  the  Commonwealth,  and  old  Martin  died,  Miles  mar- 
ried his  gentle  nurse  and  the  next  generation  Avere  Presbyterians. 
Father  Martin  left  enough  worldly  wealtii  to  cover  all  defects  in 
his  genealogy,  and  the  Restoration  found  Miles  Rayneford  a  portly 
gentleman  with  two  sons,  who  affected  agricultural  occupations,  and 
scorned  the  frivolities  of  the  court.  And  as  England  grew  more 
and  more  corrupt  in  morals  and  manners,  the  Raynefords  became 
more  and  more  unfashionable,  inheriting  an  honoured  name,  main- 
taining a  spotless  reputation,  but  losing  caste  among  the  gentry  of 
the  neighbourhood,  who  came  to  talk  of  the  Raynefords  of  Hawkley 
as  an  old  race  that  had  died  out  or  been  supplanted  by  a  succession 
of  humdrum  country  'squires,  that  were  more  than  half  Dissenters 
at  heart. 

But  the  Raynefords  regained  caste  two  generations  ago.  There 
came  a  certain  Miles  Rayneford  (for  they  kept  up  the  name  of  the 
last  cavalier,  whose  sword  hung  over  the  mantel  in  the  great  dining- 
room),  and  he  was  learned  in  the  law,  and  Mon  high  honours  in  Par- 
liament, and  finally  died  Lord  Rayneford  of  Hawkley.  His  son, 
the  second  Baron,  married  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Hyland, 
with  a  good  fortune  in  her  own  right,  a  large  part  of  which  he 
managed  to  spend,  leaving  her  a  widow  with  two  sons,  !Miles  and 
Hyland,  an  encumbered  estate  to  be  inherited  by  Miles,  third  Lord 
Rayneford,  and  about  a  thousand  pounds  a  year  of  her  original 
dower,  which  went  to  her  second  son,  Hyland  Rayneford,  when  she 
took  her  place  by  the  side  of  her  lord  in  Hawkley  churchyard. 


THE  RAYNEFORDS.  13 

And  as  the  early  manhood  of  these  two  gentlemen  was  attained  in 
the  proximate  past,  the  present  history  is  concerned  witli  them  and 
their  fortunes. 

The  brothers  had  spent  their  early  lives  together.  They  were  at 
Eton  together,  and  chewed  the  same  Greek  roots  side  by  side.  But 
two  years  after  he  reached  his  majority,  Ilyland,  impulsive,  restless, 
and  obstinate,  took  service  with  the  East  India  Company,  and  sailed 
for  Calcutta  to  ''  lose  his  liver  or  gain  a  lac,"  as  he  expressed  it.  It 
was  a  sore  trial  to  Miles,  who  was  fond  of  the  wayward  boy ;  but 
his  affectionate  remonstrance  availed  nothing,  and  Ilyland  left  his 
native  land  brimful  of  pluck  and  energy,  and  confident  of  success 
in  rupee-hunting.  His  thousand  pounds  a  year  he  thought  was  only 
modified  penury,  but  he  wisely  resolved  to  leave  his  capital  in  three 
per  cents,  and  live  within  his  income.  His.  modest  ambition — for 
he  was  only  twenty-three — was  to  secure  a  revenue  of  twenty  thou- 
sand a  year,  and  then  rest  from  his  labours. 

"You  know.  Miles,"  he  said,  as  they  stood  apart  on  the  deck 
of  the  big  ship,  slowly  following  the  snorting  little  tug  down  the 
Thames — "you  know  a  fellow  cannot  dawdle  through  life  with  no 
object  before  him.  I  must  make  a  little  money  out  of  John  Com- 
pany before  I  get  too  old." 

"You  have  money  enough  now,  Hyland,"  replied  his  brother. 
"  You  are  richer  than  I,  although  I  am  lord  of  Hawkley." 

"  Lord  Rayneford,  Miles,"  said  Hyland, "  your  name  is  better  than 
money.  And  if  you  will  take  it,  I  will  give  you  half  of  mine.  I 
shall  be  no  poorer,  for  I  don't  count  my  thousand  a  year  as  anything. 
I  am  going  to  live  on  my  salary  out  yonder." 

"  Well,  come  back  with  me,  Hyland,"  replied  Lord  Rayneford, 
"and  I  will  live  economically,  and  you  and  I  together  will  work  to 
cleiir  the  old  place.  I  will  promise  not  to  marry,  so  you  will  be 
Lord  Rayneford  when  I  die." 

"'England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty,'  brother,"  said 
Hyland.  "You  will  be  obliged  to  marry.  Young  noblemen  are 
not  allowed  to  lie  about  loose  in  this  country.  I  know  six  mammas 
this  moment  who  have  designs  upon  you.  Ah  !  old  Miles,  I  think 
if  I  were  Lord  Rayneford  I  would  die  when  I  assumed  the  title  ! 
Nobody  in  the  wide  world  but  you.  Miles  !"  and  he  turned  aside  a 
moment  to  hide  his  emotion  ;  "  and  if  you  were  to  die,  all  the  wide 
world  would  be  dead  to  me !" 

"  And  yet  you  leave  me,  Hyland." 

"  Tut !     A\'hat  is  a  journey  to  Calcutta  in  these  days?     ^^'hy,  we 


14  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

shall  hear  from  each  other  every  week.  Let  me  go,  Miles,  just 
to  look  at  the  country,  and  kill  a  tiger,  and  ride  on  an  elephant, 
and  learn  to  swear  in  Hindoostauee.  If  the  field  is  not  promising 
I'll  come  back  to  you.  Hillo !  there's  the  last  bell.  Good-bye, 
brother !" 

Now  these  young  gentlemen,  so  open  and  truthful,  had  each  been 
carefully  concealing  from  the  other  certain  sentiments  which  mod- 
ified the  distress  of  their  first  separation. 

Two  miles  from  Hawkley  a  retired  manufacturer  had  erected  a 
villa.  It  was  not  gorgeous,  but  was  large  and  well  appointed.  ISIr. 
Brentam  had  made  his  fortune  by  twenty  years  of  diligent  work  in 
iron  founderies  and  forges,  and  while  he  withdrew  from  all  active 
participation  in  commercial  affairs,  he  still  retained  shares  in  various 
works,  and  was  a  director  in  two  or  three  that  were  near  Hawkley. 
He  was  a  busy  man,  always  foremost  in  charitable  enterprises,  and 
always  prompt  to  join  in  schemes  for  the  promotion  of  workingmen's 
interests.  At  Brentam  Mills,  he  had  a  village  of  model  cottages,  all 
constructed  under  his  personal  supervision,  and  all  inhabited  by 
thrivinsr  families.  For  a  wonder,  he  was  total Iv  indifferent  about 
his  status  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  for  a  second  wonder,  the  ''  good 
families"  did  not  turn  up  their  noses  at  him.  He  was  a  widower 
and  childless,  but  he  had  a  nephew,  Frank  Daltman,  and  a  niece, 
Mildred  Carey.  These  were  orphan  children  of  his  sisters,  and 
they  were  more  troublesome  to  him  than  all  his  wealth. 

Place  aux  dames.  Mildred  Carey  was  two  years  younger  than 
her  cousin,  and  at  the  date  of  Hyland's  departure  was  the  ac- 
knowledged belle  of  the  county.  Her  father  was  a  member  of  one 
of  the  "county"  families,  who  had  married  Miss  Brentam  because 
she  was  a  shareholder  in  Brentam  Mills,  a  corporation  which  paid 
good  dividends.  Mr.  Carey  was  constitutionally  impecunious,  but 
his  brother-in-law  secured  the  inheritance  of  Mildred  in  the  mar- 
riage settlement,  and  when  she  was  orphaned,  and  removed  to  her 
uncle's  house,  it  was  vaguely  understood  in  the  neighbourhood  that 
she  was  an  heiress  of  respectable  dimensions.  The  girl  was  educated 
at  expensive  schools,  was  very  much  of  a  lady,  a  little  haughty,  a 
trifle  self-walled,  but  a  very  general  favourite.  Of  course,  all  the 
young  gentlemen  of  the  neighbourhood,  eligible  and  otherwise, 
adored  Miss  Carey.  But  the  most  ardent  of  her  admirers  was 
Lord  Rayneford,  who  was  living  a  life  of  agony  under  the  convic- 
tion that  Mildred  manifested  a  decided  preference  for  his  younger 
brother,  Hyland. 


THE  RAWSKFORDS.  15 

Hykiml,  who  was  not  the  least  bit  of  a  coxcotub,  had  gradually 
reached  the  same  conclusion.  And  the  most  curious  feature  in  this 
trian^'ular  involvement  was  the  fact  that  Hyland  was  the  solitary 
youth  in  the  charmed  circle  of  which  Mildred  was  the  centre  who 
did  not  surrender  to  her  attractions.  He  knew  that  Miles  was  a 
silent  worshipper  of  this  goddess,  though  no  words  ever  passed  be- 
tween the  brothers  to  reveal  the  true  state  of  their  feelings.  Miles 
was  jealous  because  he  was  madly  in  love,  and  he  constantly  sus- 
pected his  brother  of  hypocrisy,  when  Hyland's  indifference  to  Mil- 
dred's charms  was  most  manifest.  And  Hyland,  generous  and 
considerate,  forbore  to  utter  his  sentiments  touching  Mildred's 
haughtiness  and  obstinacy,  lest  he  should  pain  his  brother.  Some- 
how, these  three  were  continually  playing  at  cross-purposes.  Mildred 
was  incensed,  while  Hyland  stood  aloof,  she  thinking  he  had  detected 
her  liking  for  him,  and  therefore  becoming  more  haughty  and  distant 
to  Lord  Rayneford,  because  she  imagined  that  the  brothers  discussed 
her,  and  their  relative  chances  of  winning  her.  Miles  would  not 
believe  that  any  man  could  be  in  the  society  of  his  idol  without 
yielding  homage,  and  therefore  concluded  his  brother's  coolness  a 
pretense,  which  was  the  more  galling  because  he  suspected  Hyland 
of  sacrificing  his  own  inclinations  for  his  sake.  And  Hyland,  slow 
to  discover  his  own  attractiveness  of  mind  and  person,  was  in  a  state 
of  chronic  instability,  under  the  impression  that  Miss  Carey  had 
resolved  to  bring  him  to  her  feet  for  the  mere  purpose  of  "throwing 
him  over"  as  soon  as  he  should  essay  serious  courtship.  No  such 
purpose  was  in  his  thought.  The  youth  was  a  motive-hunter.  He 
spent  his  life  in  investigating  the  springs  of  human  action,  and  at 
twenty-two  he  thought  he  had  mastered  many  of  the  most  inscrutable 
problems  of  mental  and  moral  philosophy.  The  philosophy  that 
was  fashionable  in  his  day  was  a  queer  mixture  of  the  theories  of 
Zeno,  Epicurus,  Chrysippus,  and  their  modern  disciples,  Hobbes, 
Mill,  and  Auguste  Comte.  It  was  compact  and  portable,  and  it 
could  all  be  summed  up  in  one  or  two  postulates :  First.  Nothing 
is  good  except  that  which  gives  pleasure.  Second.  No  motive  can 
influence  humanity  except  the  desire  for  pleasure,  or,  its  converse, 
the  repugnance  to  pain.  Consequently  all  those  sentiments  that  pre- 
suppose disinterested  beneficence  are  a  delusion  or  a  sham.  And  if 
the  reader  will  extract  anything  more  or  greater  from  the  separate 
or  united  teachings  of  the  worthies  above  enumerated,  he  or  she  is 
in  a  fair  way  to  square  the  circle. 

With  this  budding  philosophy  filling  his  mind,  and  charming 


16  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

him  by  constantly  recurring  proofs  of  the  innate  selfishness  of  hu- 
manity, Hyland  was  not  fitted  to  play  the  lover.  And  if  he  had 
been,  Mildred  was  not  the  woman  to  awaken  tender  emotions  in  his 
soul.  Her  accomplishments  amused  and  entertained  him,  and  he 
enjoyed  her  society  until  he  discovered  in  her  a  pronounced  prefer- 
ence for  his,  and  then,  seeking  her  motives  with  no  better  light  than 
Positivism  could  furnish,  he  coolly  decided  that  she  wanted  a  new 
conquest  to  gratify  her  vanity.  The  youth  had  not  learned  that  the 
vast  chambers  of  a  woman's  mind  could  not  be  explored  by  so  feeble 
a  glimmer ! 

So  Hyland  promptly  caught  at  the  opportunity  for  escape  when 
the  Calcutta  appointment  was  ofl'ered.  He  had  been  conscious  of 
the  subdued  jealousy  of  Miles,  and  as  he  knew  no  more  eligible 
admirer  than  Lord  Rayneford  was  seeking  her  favour,  he  was  the 
more  eager  to  give  his  brother  a  clear  field  by  retiring  himself.  All 
this  he  kept  secret  when  they  were  parting  and  afterwards. 

And  Lord  Rayneford  also,  who  did  not  wear  his  heart  upon  his 
sleeve,  drew  some  comfort  from  similar  reflections,  as  he  watched 
the  ship  that  bore  Hyland  away  passing  down  the  river.  He  was 
not  afilicted  with  Hyland's  philosophy,  and  concluded  that  his 
brother  would  never  entertain  matrimonial  plans  while  his  revenue 
was  so  limited.  And  therefore,  he  was  going  to  India,  to  burn  out 
the  tender  emotions  under  her  tropical  skies.  So,  being  a  quiet 
man  and  sensitive  to  a  degree,  he  had  not  spoken  of  Mildred  at  all 
in  his  later  colloquies  with  Hyland. 

The  Raynefords  had  been  two  weeks  in  London  before  Hyland's 
departure.  The  appointment  was  offered  by  a  friend  of  Hyland's 
father,  at  whose  house  they  were  dining,  and  accepted  on  the  in- 
stant. The  duties  would  be  easy  enough — chiefly  literary  work, 
some  civil  engineering,  and  a  good  deal  of  drawing,  which  was 
specially  attractive  to  Hyland,  who  had  a  penchant  for  art. 

"  The  salary  is  not  large,"  observed  Mr.  Plimpton ;  "  but  three 
hundred  pounds  will  pay  your  expenses,  Hyland.  And  if  you  take 
to  India  life,  there  are  numerous  chances  of  promotion  out  there." 

"  It  is  more  than  I  am  worth,"  said  Hyland,  in  reply ;  "  and  my 
conscience  will  compel  me  to  serve  John  Company  diligently  to  earn 
the  three  hundred.    I'll  stick  at  it  until  I  master  the  lingo,  anyhow." 

When  Lord  Rayneford  returned  to  Hawkley,  he  found  the  news 
of  his  brother's  departure  had  preceded  him.  Hyland  was  a  gen- 
eral favourite,  and  Miles  received  many  congratulations  upon  his 
brother's  good  fortune,  and  was  entertained  with  many  predictions 


THE  RAYNEFORDS.  17 

of  his  success.  Miss  Carey,  wlio  was  too  self- possessed  to  manifest 
any  emotion,  received  Hyhuid's  parting  messages  with  great  j)()lite- 
ness  ami  composure.  But  she  was  a  good  deal  chagrined  to  find 
nothing  in  these  last  words,  faithfully  repeated  by  Miles,  beyond 
the  onlinaiy  farewells  of  an  ordinary  acquaintance. 

"JIow  long  will  Mr,  Raynetord  be  alxsent?"  she  enquired. 

"He  says,"  replied  Lord  Ixayneford,  ''that  he  will  stay  until  he 
makes  a  Inc  of  rupees.  I  thought,  at  the  time,  he  meant  silver 
rupees,  but  it  just  occurs  to  me  that  he  may  have  intended  to  say 
gold  rupees.     If  he  did " 

''Well?" 

"  If  he  meant  gold  rupees,"  continued  Miles,  slowly,  "  I  don't 
think  he  will  ever  return  !  Money  don't  grow  in  the  jungles  !  And 
Hyland  is  such  a  determined  fellow  when  he  makes  up  his  mind, 
that  he  will  not  relinquish  his  purpose  on  account  of  difficulties." 

"He  will  meet  Frank  there,"  observed  Miss  Carey;  "I  mean 
my  cousin,  Frank  Daltman.  When  you  Avrite  you  might  send  him 
a  letter  from  Uncle  Brentam.     I  will  write  to  Frank  also." 

"Thanks!  You  are  very  kind.  I  thought  Mr.  Daltman  was 
at  the  Cape  ?" 

"His  regiment  was  ordered  to  Calcutta,  recently,"  replied  Miss 
Carey.  "  By-the-bye,  your  brother  never  met  him.  I  remember  he 
told  me  so,  a  few  weeks  ago.  Did  you  go  to  the  Crystal  Palace  ? 
Of  course!  you  were  two  weeks  in  London.  How  beautiful  the 
Victoria  Regia  is !  Ah  !  that  reminds  me.  You  have  not  seen  our 
rhododendrons !  They  are  in  full  bloom.  Will  you  walk  in  the 
garden  ?" 

When  Lord  Rayneford  rode  home  that  evening,  he  thought  Mil- 
dred had  been  so  remarkably  kind  that  he  must  be  growing  in 
favour.  Since  he  had  received  his  inheritance  he  had  been  diligently 
economizing,  as  he  had  resolved  to  remove  the  encumbrances  that 
burdened  it  and  reduced  his  revenues.  Like  Hyland,  he  was  "a 
determined  fellow,"  and  he  resisted  all  temptation  to  spend,  and 
had  already  made  some  decided  reduction  in  the  indebtedness  of  the 
estate.  And  that  evening  he  pondered  over  rent-rolls  and  mort- 
gages, and  calculated  how  nmch  longer  he  must  wait  before  he  coiild 
ask  Miss  Carey  to  become  Lady  Rayneford. 

And  ]\Iildred,  at  the  same  hour,  was  saying  to  herself  that  she 
would  uid)end  to  my  lord  more  graciously  than  was  customary,  as 
he  would  be  sure  to  have  the  earliest  news  of  Hyland,  in  whose 
career  she  felt  a  decided  interest. 


18  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

CHAPTER    III. 

Mr.  Daltman. 

ly/TR.  HYLAND  RAYNEFORD,  who  affected  utter  scorn  of 
-^^-^  the  theory  that  gave  special  privileges  to  men  of  gentle  birth, 
was,  nevertheless,  received  with  favour  into  the  best  societv  in  Cal- 
cutta, as  the  scion  of  a  noble  house  and  heir-apparent  to  a  title.  The 
only  brother  of  the  bachelor  Lord  Rayneford  was  a  welcome  visitor 
in  all  the  English  families  resident  in  the  Indian  city.  His  official 
duties,  in  the  service  of  the  Honourable  East  India  Company,  had 
a  semi-politidal  character,  and  the  young  array-officers  received  him 
with  open  arms.  It  therefore  happened  that  he  had  established  very 
intimate  relations  with  Lieutenant  Frank  Daltman  long;  before  the 
tardy  mails  brought  the  credentials  referred  to  in  the  previous 
chapter. 

There  was  not  much  in  common  between  these  young  gentlemen 
either.  Hyland  did  not  scruple  to  avow  his  purpose  to  earn  and 
save  money  to  add  to  his  scanty  patrimony.  Mr.  Daltman,  on  the 
contrary,  who  was  passably  affluent,  was  chiefly  interested  in  devising 
methods  whereby  he  could  get  rid  of  his  superfluous  cash.  There 
were  sundry  amicable  contests  between  them,  growing  out  of  this 
difference.  Rayneford  constantly  declined  joining  in  expensive 
amusements,  refusing  urgent  and  cordial  invitations  to  parties  in 
which  no  outlay  was  required  of  him,  upon  the  ground  that  he  did 
not  intend  reciprocal  entertainments,  and  was  uncomfortable  under 
a  sense  of  obligation. 

"  The  truth  is,  Frank,"  he  said  one  day,  at  the  close  of  such  a 
debate,  "  I  am  set  upon  a  single  purpose,  and  I  must  have  a  good 
lot  of  money  if  I  accomplish  it.  If  I  had  not  this  purpose  in  view, 
I  should  be  as  reckless  a  spendthrift  as  yourself  I  want  twenty 
thousand  pounds,  and  when  I  get  that  much,  and  spend  it — for  I 
mean  to  spend  it — I  shall  give  up  my  miserly  habits." 

"  You  must  be  after  a  regular  estate,"  said  Daltman.  "  What  do 
you  intend  to  buy  with  twenty  thousand  pounds?" 

"  Ah  !"  said  Hyland,  "  that  is  a  secret.  It  would  not  interest  you. 
Don't  you  know  every  fellow  has  a  separate  object?" 

"  Except  when  two  fellows  want  the  same  charming  angel." 

"  And  even  then  there  is  a  difference.  One  fellow  will  want  her 
money,  and  the  other  will  admire  her  beauty,  or  her  wit,  or  her 
rank." 


MR.  DALTMAN.  19 

"But  I  mean,"  said  Paltman,  "  wlien  two  fellows  are  really  in 
love,  you  know.'  Kogular  s^poony.  No  sham,  but  genuine,  heart- 
break in^:  love." 

"  \\A\r  rejoined  the  philosopher,  after  a  pause,  love  lias  all  the 
elements  I  have  me.itione.l.  Some  fellows  will  love  a  pretty  face, 
and  othei-s  a  {^ood  rent-roll.  You  are  not  silly  enough  to  believe  in 
any  such  stutV  as  'disinterested  affection,'  or  the  kind  of  humbug 

vou  read  in  novels?"  ,,  t    i        \.^ 

'  "  I  don't  know,"  answered  Daltman,  doubtfully.  I  tliought 
there  might  be  something  of  Ihe  sort  in  nature.  But  I  have  had  no 
experience  in  the  spoonv  line.  Now,  holding  your  sentiments,  I 
don't  see  why  you  can't  take  your  twenty  thousand  with  an  incum- 
brance." 

"  What  sort  of  incumbrance?" 

"  A  wife !     You  can  get  a  wife  with  the  requisite  quantity  of 

tin 


"  But  that  would  be  Ixer  tin,"  replied  Hyland.  "  Many  thanks  for 
the  suggestion,  but  it  will  not  do.  I  want  twenty  thousand  of  my 
ov\n." 

"  Yes,"  said  Daltman,  "  the  settlements  would  be  a  bore.  But  you 
micrht  find  an  angel  with  a  liberal  father,  who  would  not  tie  the  tin 
up^too  tightlv.  Now,  I  am  not  going  into  the  matrimonial  business 
until  I  find  "a  damsel  with  ten  thousand  a  year;  and  I  intend  to 
direct  the  expenditures  too.  And  in  order  to  do  this  I  must  find  a 
damsel  who  has  property  in  her  own  right,  and  who  will  not  come 
to  my  loving  arms  encumbered  with  a  burglar-proof  and  husband- 
proof  lot  of ''settlements.  You  need  not  look  so  shocked  !  The  only 
difference  between  me  and  all  those  other  fellows  is  that  I  don't  mind 
telling  the  truth." 

"  Well,"  said  Hvland,  after  a  pause,  "  there  is  nothing  in  your 
sentiment^s  that  contradicts  true  philosophy.  But  I  must  reflect  upon 
it  before  I  can  commend  your  plans.  I  suppose  there  must  be  a 
difference  between  marrying  a  wife  and  buying  a  horse,  or  I  could 
not  recoil  so  promptly  from  the  mere  statement  of  your  scheme.  I 
will  investigate,  and  give  you  my  conclusion  to-morrow.  I  must 
consult  some  authorities." 

Hyland  kept  a  diary.  This  was  not  so  much  a  record  of  events 
as  a  record  of  his  wise  conclusions.  After  the  conversation  above 
written  he  made  the  following  entry: 

"  Had  a  discussion  with  Frank  Daltman  to-day  that  has  set  me  to 
thinking.     He  openly  avows  his  purpose  to  marry  a  woman  with 


20  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

money,  for  tlie  sake  of  the  money.  And  I  am  perplexed  to  account 
for  my  instinctive  contempt  for  such  a  scheme,  and  for  the  man  who 
can  construct  it.  Beciiuse  I  see  so  many  examples  of  just  such  mean- 
ness, if  I  may  so  term  it,  that  Frank  differs  from  other  men  only  in 
his  bold  avowal.  I  thought  I  had  reduced  motive  to  its  last  anal- 
ysis, and  had  demonstrated  that  pure  selfishness  was  pure  philosopiiv. 
And  now  I  must  objectivise  the  subjective,  and  analyse  my  prompt 
recoil. 

"First,  by  M-ay  of  introduction  :  Can  I  marry  for  money? 

"  No !  a  thousand  times  no  !  Tentatively  :  maxim  first. — One  can 
never  safely  distrust  one's  instincts.  Because  instincts  are  either 
moral  or  sentimental,  and  therefore  cannot  be  subjected  to  the  tests 
applied  to  material  phenomena.  I  refer,  of  course,  to  human  in- 
stincts, which  are  (perhaps)  the  faculties  that  cognise  prerequisites. 

"I  instinctively  recoil  from  Frank's  principle.  That  is  to  say : 
some  inexorable  law  dominates  my  mental  organism  that  does  not 
hamper  Frank.  It  must  be  a  law.  For  I  cannot  debate  the  propo- 
sition any  more  than  I  could  debate  a  proposition  that  involved 
falsehood  or  dishonesty.  I  simply  refuse  to  entertain  the  idea. 
Things  that  equal  the  same  thing  equal  each  other. 

"  Analysis :  Marrying  for  money  involves  both  falsehood  and  dis- 
honesty. No  man  tells  the  heiress  that  he  wants  her  money.  No 
such  case  of  courting  is  on  record.  The  suitor  addresses  personal 
charms,  mental  endowments,  moral  beauties.  If  Frank  told  the  truth 
he  would  say  :  ^  You  have  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and  I  desire  to 
possess  it,  therefore  marry  me.'  It  is  not  probable  that  he  will  make 
his  approaches  in  this  fashion.  And  if  he  does  not  he  will  lie.  No 
English  gentleman  can  lie. 

"  Conclusion :  No  English  gentleman  can  marry  for  money." 

Hyland  left  his  diary  at  this  point.  He  was  satisfied  that  he  had 
mastered  the  difficulties  of  the  case,  and  when  he  dropped  in  at 
Daltman's  bungalow  the  next  day,  he  was  prepared  to  show  his 
friend  the  nature  of  the  obstacles  to  his  scheme. 

He  found  Daltman  spluttering  defective  Hindostanee  to  two  na- 
tive servants,  who  were  busily  employed  in  packing  some  valises, 
strapping  up  a  gun-case,  and  making  other  prejiarations  for  a  move. 

"  Good  news,  Rayneford  !"  said  Frank  ;  "  my  company  is  going 
into  the  hill  country — to  Nuttagur  station,  in  fact." 

"  Nuttagur?"  answered  Hyland  ;  "  that  is  the  new  Sanitarium." 

"Exactly.  The  major  says  you  are  to  go  also.  Have  you 
received  your  orders  ?" 


MR.  DALTMAK  21 

"  No." 

"  Well,  it's  all  right.  Civil  engineering,  sketching,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  The  major  goes  also.  You  will  have  a  jolly  time. 
No  military  rules  or  duties,  and  plenty  of  girls  to  flirt  with.  The 
Mordaunts  are  there,  you  know." 

"  The  Mordaunts  ?'"' 

"  Yes.  Two  charming  ladies.  Heiresses  expectant.  You  and  I 
will  toss  up  for  the  choice.  Their  chances  are  equal,  and  the  old 
gentleman  is  on  his  last  legs." 

"  You  may  take  them  both,"  replied  Ilyland ;  "  I  have  thought 
over  the  matter,  and  reached  a  conclusion." 

Daltinan  drew  up  a  camp-stool,  which  he  handed  to  his  visitor, 
coolly  kicked  over  a  native,  who  was  squatting  on  a  refractory  valise 
that  refused  to  be  locked,  turned  it  up  endwise,  and  sat  on  it.  He 
then  produced  two  cheroots,  lighting  one  and  handing  the  other  to 
Kayneford. 

"  Now,  then,"  he  said,  "  fire  away  !     What  is  your  conclusion  ?" 

"An  English  gentleman  cannot  marry  for  money,"  said  Hyland. 

"  Why  do  you  restrict  the  prohibition  to  Englishmen  ?" 

"  Because  French  gentlemen  seem  to  marry  in  no  other  way,"  re- 
plied Hyland;  "I  have  not  clearly  decided  whether  or  not  their 
marriages  are  proper.  I  may  investigate  that  point  another  time. 
But  it  is  a  clear  case  that  an  Englishman  of  good  breed  cannot  hon- 
ourably court  a  girl  English  fashion  for  the  sake  of  her  money." 

"  I  understand  !"  ejaculated  Daltman,  after  puffing  at  his  cheroot 
in  silent  meditation  a  few  minutes;  "you  object  to  the  love-making 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  it  is  just  like  '  my 
dear  sir,'  and  'yours  truly,'  in  epistolary  communications.  They 
don't  mean  anything.  They  don't  deceive  anybody.  Now,  these 
French  beggars  go  through  a  lot  of  ceremony  just  like  ours,  with 
the  difference  in  idiom.  The  suitor  visits  the  lady  with  the  most 
elaborate  formality  and  solicits  the  honour  of  an  interview.  The 
lady  tells  him  to  give  himself  the  pain  of  sitting  down.  The  gen- 
tlcn)an  bows  twice,  takes  a  seat,  and  informs  the  object  of  his  affec- 
tions that  he  is  desolated  until  he  can  bestow  himself,  his  box  at  the 
opera,  his  chateau,  and  his  Paris  house  upon  her.  The  lady  ex- 
])resscs  herself  as  charmed  with  the  prospect,  and  begs  to  refer  him 
to  monsieur,  her  papa.  But  we  English  don't  go  through  all  that 
humbug  exactly,  though  we  do  a  different  sort  of  humbug.  We 
get  spoony,  and  read  up  poetry  to  quote,  and  scorn  all  mercenary 
considerations.     But  in  both  cases,  all  the  parties  interested  weigh 


22  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

the  matter  in  business  fashion.  The  mammas  or  papas  settle  the 
business,  and  the  rest  is  all  ceremony." 

"  But  what  do  you  offer  in  exchange  for  the  money  ?"  persisted 
Hyland  ;  "  I  cannot  see  an  equivalent." 

"  Equivalent !  Come,  now,  that's  cool !  Don't  a  fellow  give  up 
his  liberty?  A  respectable  Englishman  is  obliged  to  become  a 
galley  slave  when  he  marries.  He  must  take  his  wife  to  balls  and 
operas.  He  must  dine  and  sleep  at  home.  He  must  go  to  church. 
He  must  subscribe  to  all  sorts  of  charities " 

"  And  pay  his  subscriptions  with  his  wife's  money,"  interrupted 
Hyland. 

"  Of  course !  That  is  the  worst  part  of  the  business.  The  reve- 
nues are  diverted  from  their  natural  channels.  It  is  matrimony  that 
entails  expense.  Matrimony  means  an  esti\blishment,  and  all  sorts 
of  outlays  unknown  to  bachelors.  In  fact,  the  married  man  is  only 
his  wife's  banker." 

"  With  a  liberal  percentage  allowed  for  his  disbursements,"  said 
Hyland.  "You  have  not  made  out  your  case,  Daltman.  You 
cannot  marry  a  woman  for  money.  You  cannot  sell  a  spavined 
horse  as  sound." 

"  I've  known  some  very  respectable  people  to  do  that  same," 
muttered  Daltman. 

"  Doubtless !"  responded  Hyland ;  "  but  you  cannot  gain  your 
own  consent  to  follow  in  their  respectable  footsteps.  You  may  sell 
any  portable  property  you  possess,  except  your  self-respect.  If  I 
were  to  marry  a  rich  woman,"  he  continued,  growing  more  earnest 
as  he  pi'oceeded,  "  it  would  be  under  the  pressure  of  most  extraor- 
dinary circumstances,  and  I  Avould  never  rest  until  I  had  settled  her 
entire  estate  upon  herself!" 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  some  rational  argument  in  support  of  your 
theory,"  said  Daltman  ;  "  all  you  have  said  might  point  a  moral  or 
adorn  a  tale — I  mean  a  novel,  you  know — but  none  of  that  sort  of 
bosh  will  go  down  in  real  life.  I  challenge  you  to  produce  a  soli- 
tary case  in  English  society  that  will  illustrate  such  unmitigated 
humbug!  Usually,  you  have  some  philosophical  formula  where- 
with to  enforce  your  conclusions.    Propound  one  here.    Formulate !" 

Hyland  recalled  to  mind  his  recorded  philosophy  of  the  previous 
day,  and  was  about  to  present  his  major  proposition,  when  the  door 
opened  and  a  strange  gentleman  entered.  He  was  a  tall,  slender 
man,  about  thirty,  pale  and  emaciated,  and  looked  more  feeble  as  he 
supported  himself  with  a  stout  cane,  while  he  shuffled  into  the  room. 


MR.  GLEXDARE.  23 

Hylaiul  arose,  and  offered  his  camp-stool  to  the  new-comer,  who 
accepted  the  seat  with  a  courteous  gesture. 

He  was  apjnirently  exhausted  by  the  elFort  at  locomotion,  and  sat 
quietly  fanning  himself  with  his  hat,  while  Hylaud  stood  by,  fur- 
tively stuilying  liis  phicid  countenance.  Daltmau  arose  and  took 
the  stranger's  liat,  substituting  a  palm-leaf  fan. 

"  Ilayneford,"  said  Daltman,  "  I  am  delighted  to  introduce  my 
friend,  Mr.  Glendare.  You  fellows  should  know  each  other,  as  you 
are  both  alllicted  with  very  similar  forms  of  lunacy.  You  are  in- 
sane on  the  marriage  question,  and  Glendare  has  nearly  killed  him- 
self in  the  effort  to  convert  a  lot  of  these  rascally  Hindoos,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Missionary  Society.  I  believe  he  is  regular, 
though,  representing  the  Church  of  England  in  this  heathen  land. 
Mr.  Hyland  Rayneford,  Glendare,  a  brother  of  Lord  Ilayneford  of 
Hawkley." 

The  gentlemen  shook  hands.  Hyland  noted  the  firm  grip  of  the 
slender  fingers,  and  the  glance  of  intelligent  appreciation,  as  the  mis- 
sionary's eyes  met  his.  They  were  clear,  blue  eyes,  full  of  expres- 
sion, in  spite  of  his  physical  feebleness,  and  in  spite  of  the  spectacles 
that  covered  them.  He  wore  a  full  beard,  black  and  silky,  and  the 
most  prominent  thought  in  Hyland's  mind  was  the  memory  of  an 
old  proverb,  which  he  had  heard  in  his  boyish  days : 

"  Black  beard  and  blue  eyes, 
Very  weak  or  very  wise." 

"  In  this  instance,"  said  Hyland  to  himself,  "  I  will  wager  a 
trifle  that  the  weakness  is  physical  only.  The  philosophy  that  might 
stun  Daltman  will  make  no  impression  on  Mr.  Glendare !" 


CHAPTER    lY. 

Mr.  Glendare. 

"  T  INTERRUPTED  a  discussion  by  my  entrance,"  said  Mr. 
-A-  Glendare.  "  I  overheard  Frank's  bold  challenge  as  I  stood  at 
the  door.  Pray  go  on  with  it,  wliile  I  recover  ray  breath.  This  is 
my  first  walk,  Mr.  Rayneford,  after  a  compulsory  rest  of  six  weeks." 
There  was  a  crisp  accuracy  of  accent  and  intonation  observable  ia 
his  short  speech  that  gave  Hyland  some  other  pieces  of  information. 


24  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Scottish!"  he  thought,  "because  no  other  nationality  can  produce 
such  crisp  sentences.  The  great  gentleness  in  his  tones  is  due  to  the 
piety.  These  missionary  gentlemen  must  have  an  extraordinarv 
quantity  of  piety  to  fit  them  for  their  work,  and  keep  them  at  it, 
especially  in  India." 

"You  do  not  look  very  vigourous,"  Hyland  answered.  "I  sup- 
pose your  six  weeks  of  *  rest,'  as  you  call  it,  was  enjoined  by  the 
doctor  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Daltman  ;  "regular  fever — jungle  fever,  no  doubt, 
as  Mr.  Glendare  took  no  end  of  pains  to  catch  it.  It  would  have 
killed  any  other  than  a  Caledonian.  But  he  is  not  throutrh  vet. 
He  is  ordered  to  the  hill  country,  and  will  follow  us — how  soon, 
Hamish  ?" 

"I  hope  to  accompany  you,"  answered  Mr.  Glendare. 

"We  start  to-morrow,"  said  Daltman,  "an  hour  before  sunrise. 
I  should  say  you  could  not  possibly  go  with  us  if  I  had  not  known 
you  to  undertake  and  accomplish  greater  impossibilities." 

"The  undertaking  is  not  so  formidable.  Colonel  Mordaunt 
says  we  shall  go  by  easy  stages.  There  are  two  companies  of  in- 
fantry to  go." 

"  Well,"  answered  Daltman,  "  you  can  travel  '  en  prinae^  in  a 
palanquin " 

"  Not  I,"  replied  the  invalid.  "  I  am  going  on  horseback  until 
I  gather  strength  to  walk.  The  doctor  says  two  or  three  days  will 
set  me  up.  But  I  desire  to  hear  your  debate.  W^hen  you  say 
'  formulate'  I  know  there  is  a  debate  on  the  tapis.  Recommence, 
I  beg  you." 

"I  shall  need  your  aid,  Mr.  Glendare,"  observed  Hyland;  "Frank 
has  enunciated  certain  heretical  doctrines  relating  to  matrimony, 
and,  as  I  hold  opposite  views,  he  challenges  me  to  a  controversy." 

"  Formulate !"  reiterated  Daltman  ;  "  fire  away,  both  of  you  !  I 
engage  to  defeat  your  antiquated  notions  with  a  little  common 
sense,  and  an  appeal  to  universal  experience.  Open  the  ball, 
Rayneford !" 

"An  English  gentleman  cannot  marry  for  money,"  said  Hyland. 

"That  sounds  like  a  quotation  from  the  tables  in  the  Prayer-book 
— 'a  man  cannot  marry  his  grandmother.'  But  I  beg  pardon. 
Hamish,  do  you  endorse  Rayneford's  postulate?" 

"Allow  me  to  moderate  the  session,"  said  Mr.  Glendare;  "perhaps 
I  will  give  the  casting  vote.  You  have  the  floor.  Answer  Mr. 
Rayneford." 


MR.  GLENDARE.  25 

"  The  answer  is  easy,"  replied  Daltniaii,  coiitt'inptiiously  :  "  Enf>;- 
li.sljtiicn  do  many  for  money  every  week  in  the  year,  excepting  tiie 
Lenten  season,  perhaps." 

"  I  do  not  contradict  yon,"  said  Hyhmd.  "  I  meant  to  say,  an 
Enijlisii  gentleman  wiio  marries  for  money  violates  his  hononr.  He 
obtains  a  wife  under  false  pretences.  He  professes  certain  senti- 
ments which  he  <loes  not  really  entertain.  He  asserts  a  preference 
for  one  woman  over  all  other  women  in  the  world,  when  in  reality 
his  attaclunent  is  to  her  bank-book.  He  theretbrc  violates  the 
truth." 

"You  have  a  very  bald  way  of  stating  things,"  said  Daltman. 
"This  marrying  business  is  not  like  ordinary  atHiirs.  Sentiments! 
Pooh  !  Of  course  a  fellow  is  expected  to  profess  a  lot  of  sentiments, 
but  they  do  not  deceive,  and  are  not  intended  to  deceive,  anybody. 
Under  strict  analysis  they  all  fall  into  the  same  category  of  conven- 
tional usage,  which  requires  politeness  from  a  gentleman,  even  when 
he  is  about  to  cut  another  fellow's  throat.  Now,  wlien  you  marry  a 
woman  you  give  her  the  worth  of  her  money.  You  give  her  your 
name,  your  protection,  a  certain  place  in  society  which  she  could  not 
reach  as  a  spinster.  Mrs.  Frank  Daltman  would  be  a  welcome  guest 
in  a  score  of  houses  which  she  could  never  enter  as  Miss  Snooks, 
if  she  had  forty  thousand  pounds  at  her  back.  Bleas  you !  she 
knows  what  she  gets  for  her  money.  Sentiments !  Of  course  ! 
You  are  miserable  except  when  in  her  society.  You  think  of  her 
all  day,  and  dream  of  her  all  night.  All  that  humbug  is  part  of 
the  game.  It  is  just  like  'your  obedient  servant'  at  the  end  of  a 
letter." 

"Do  you  keep  up  the  delusion  after  marriage?"  said  Hyland. 

"  Yes  !  that  is,  to  a  certain  extent.  You  are  not  expected  to  be 
spoony  beyond  the  honeymoon,  but  you  must  keep  up  the  ordinary 
civilities  of  life.  The  money  is  now  in  joint  ownership.  The  style 
in  which  it  enables  you  to  live  is  a  part  of  Madame's  life,  as  well  as 
yours.  Mrs.  Daltman  expects  Mr.  Daltman  to  frequent  expensive 
clubs,  and  to  indulge  in  many  little  elegancies  which  were  denied  in 
his  bachelorhood.  Mr.  Daltman  takes  Madame  to  the  opera,  to  the 
Continent,  to  the  Nile " 

"  And  provides  a  maid  to  wait  upon  her,  jxaying  her  wages  from 
Madame's  revenues.  It  is  a  sorry  sort  of  business,  Frank.  I  shall 
argue  with  you  no  longer.  You  sneer  at  sentiments,  and  your  pre- 
matrimonial  profession  of  them  is  hypocrisy.  I  cannot  conceive  how 
a  man  that  ever  had  a  mother  can  hold  such  utterly  selfish  theories 


26  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

regarding  women.     And  I  tell  you,  frankly,  that  I  am  sorry  for 
Mrs.  Daltman  in  advance." 

Mr.  Daltman  laughed. 

"  If  Mr.  Rayneford  relinquishes  the  cudgel,"  said  Mr.  Glendare, 
in  soft  accents,  "  I  think  I  shall  take  it  up." 

"  Formulate !"  responded  Daltman,  defiantly. 

"  Mr.  Rayneford's  proposition  was  too  broad,"  continued  the  mis- 
sionary, "  or  he  would  have  made  a  stronger  argument." 

"State  it  in  your  own  fashion,"  replied  Daltman;  "  only  don't 
draw  your  arguments  from  the  Prayer-book.  I  want  a  philosophical 
statement." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  gently,  "  there  are  two  sorts  of  philos- 
ophy. One  is  the  sort  taught  by  Zeno,  Epicurus,  and  other  wortiiies 
of  antiquity,  and  this  has  recently  come  into  fashion  again,  with  some 
slight  modifications.  The  other  is  the  philosophy  of  Christian  na- 
tions, and  is  more  or  less  in  accordance  with  the  doctrines  of  Revela- 
tion. The  main  difference  between  the  two,  as  I  apprehend,  is  in 
the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  the  doctrine  of  a  personal  Deity,  who 
has  created,  and  therefore  governs." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Daltman,  "  let  us  confine  ourselves  to  civilized  society. 
You  cannot  inveigle  me  into  the  misty  regions  of  Epicurian  philoso- 
phy !  There  you  would  be  at  home,  no  doubt,  while  I  only  remem- 
ber with  a  shudder  my  youthful  explorations  in  that  direction  when 
they  were  compulsory.  I  only  meant  to  object  to  'goody'  talk.  It 
is  all  right  in  church,  you  know,  but  Rayneford  has  not  made  his 
fight  on  moral  grounds." 

"  I  think  he  has,"  replied  Mr.  Glendare.  "  His  main  point,  in- 
deed his  only  point,  relates  to  the  obligation  to  tell  the  truth.  You 
cannot  get  along  very  well,  Frank,  without  dipping  a  little  into 
moral  philosophy." 

"  Sail  on,  then,"  said  Daltman,  discontentedly.  "  I  promise  to 
listen  politely  anyhow." 

Mr.  Glendare  laughed.  "  I  am  not  going  to  preach,  so  do  not 
look  so  woebegone.  The  doctor  has  forbidden  preaching  for  three 
months.  If  I  had  only  to  draw  my  arguments  from  Holy  Writ, 
you  would  be  utterly  demolished  by  a  few  quotations." 

"  Go  on  with  your  moral  philosophy,"  replied  Daltman  ;  "  I  am ' 
curious  to  see  how  you  will  mix  it  up  with  matrimony." 

"  Well,  then,  give  heed,"  said  the  missionary.  "  All  obligations 
that  affect  intelligent  creatures  are  founded  upon  Relations.  Because 
of  the  Relations  subsisting  between  God  and  man,  as  Creator  and  crea- 


MR.  G  LEND  ARK  27 

ture,  man  is  bouiul  to  serve  and  honour  God.  Because  of  the  brother- 
hood of  the  race,  man  is  bound  to  conserve  the  interests  of  liis 
brotlier  man.  This  is  the  foundation  ])ostuhxte.  These  obligations 
are  modified  and  au«;mented  by  the  variations  in  the  Kehitions.  If 
God  is  recognized  not  only  as  a  Maker,  but  also  as  a  Father,  you 
see  how  much  more  urgently  the  obligation  to  obedience  and  rever- 
ence presses  upon  the  child.  And  if  the  mere  brotherhood  of  race 
is  elevated  into  blood-kinship,  you  see  how  much  more  emphatic  the 
obligation  to  kindness  between  the  children  of  one  household." 

"  All  that  is  rational !"  quoth  Daltman,  as  Mr.  Glendare  paused. 

"These  are  natural  obligations," continued  the  missionary ;  "they 
are  not  confined  to  Christendom  or  to  civilized  society.  The  au- 
thority of  the  Father  is  recognised  among  savage  tribes.  The  Carib 
jealously  guards  the  decaying  bones  of  his  ancestry,  which  is  a  proof 
of  the  universality  of  the  law,  because  the  Carib  manifests  scarcely 
any  other  glimmer  of  moral  sense.  And  it  is  the  indestructible  frag- 
ment of  the  original  Law  written  upon  the  Nature  of  Man  at  crea- 
tion. Because  the  Fathirhood  of  Man  is  but  the  shadow  of  the 
universal  Fatherhood  of  God. 

"Concerning  the  obligations  that  affect  human  society  merely, 
you  will  not  deny  the  superior  claims  of  brotherhood  over  mere 
neighbourhood.  The  sons  of  one  father  are  more  to  each  other  than 
mere  acquaintances  and  friends." 

"Certainly!"  responded  Frank.  "All  that  you  have  said  is  on 
my  side  of  the  argument.  A  fellow  is  justified  in  marrying  a  rich 
woman,  because  he  will  be  more  able  to  help  his  family  out  of  her 
revenues." 

"  I  have  not  quite  concluded,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  gently;  "there 
are  other  relations,  involving  other  obligations." 

"  Ah,  well,"  replied  Daltman,  "  I  did  not  intend  to  interrupt  you. 
Pray  excuse  me  and  proceed." 

"  Somehow  it  has  come  to  pass,"  said  Glendare,  after  a  brief  pause, 
"that  the  marriage  relation  is  understood  to  involve  more  intimacy 
— a  greater  identity  of  interest,  than  any  other.  The  current  idea 
in  civilized  society  affixes  to  this  relation  such  closeness  of  union 
as  does  not  attach,  for  instance,  to  the  relation  subsisting  between 
mother  and  child.  Whenever  this  identity  of  interest  is  lacking, 
somehow  the  common  idea  of  humanity  regards  the  union  of  husband 
and  wife  as  a  sham  or  a  fraud." 

"  Plenty  of  such  cases,"  ejaculated  Frank,  "  among  my  personal 
acquaintances." 


28  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  No  doubt !"  replied  Mr.  Glendare,  "  and  I  dare  say  you  have 
thought  in  your  hicid  intervals  that  these  cases  were  a  mere 
caricature  of  marriage?" 

"AVell,  yes!"  said  Daltman ;  "a  fellow  would  be  a  jolly  fool  to 
get  into  a  mess  of  that  sort.  My  loose  notions  of  matrimony,  as 
Eayneford  calls  them,  do  not  include  anything  indecorous.  I  only 
object  to  putting  spoons  in  the  place  of  money.  Spoons  are  not 
objectionable,  of  course,  provided  the  revenues  are  all  right;  but 
spoons  are  poor  substitutes  for  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence." 

"  You  bring  me  to  the  culmination,"  replied  the  missionary ;  "  I 
instanced  the  current  judgment  of  society,  because  such  judgment  is 
usually  founded  upon  truth.  There  must  be  in  all  true  marriages 
such  an  identity  as  can  only  exist  between  one  man  and  one  woman. 
That  is:  they  must  both  be  fully  persuaded  that  no  other  being  in 
the  wide  universe  is  so  dear  as  the  life  partner.  It  has  never  seemed 
to  me  that  the  exhortations  to  mutual  forbearance,  to  mutual  self- 
denial,  to  mutual  patience  were  decorous.  Because  the  interests  are 
identical,  and  it  has  always  seemed  like  exhorting  a  man  to  make 
his  eyes  direct  his  hands.  If  man  and  wife  are  not  one  in  such  a 
measure  of  unity  as  attaches  to  no  other  relation — then  they  are  two 
separate  monsters." 

"  That  is  all  very  fine,"  said  Daltman,  "  but  what  has  it  all  to  do 
with  the  argument?" 

"  Only  this.  Mr.  Rayneford's  postulate  stated  that  an  English 
gentleman  could  not  marry  for  money.  My  conclusion  is  :  that  no 
man  can  marry  for  anything  except  the  inexorable  demand  of  his 
soul,  that  craves  the  companionship  of  one  elect  womau  out  of  all 
the  women  on  earth.  He  cannot  choose  between  two  women,  if  he 
is  a  true  man ;  indeed,  it  is  not  a  matter  of  choice  at  all.  It  is  only 
the  cognition  of  the  fact  that  he  has  found  the  predestined  partner 
of  his  life.  It  is  a  cognition  through  the  God-given  faculty  ot 
intuition,  irrespective  of  argument,  motive,  or  appeal.  He  loves  her. 
It  is  not  the  sort  of  stuif  that  you  call  ^spoons.'  It  is  the  earnest 
conviction  of  his  soul  that  she  must  be  his  wife,  or  his  entire  life 
must  be  a  blank.  In  so  far  as  the  purpose  of  God  in  his  creation 
terminates  upon  sublunary  things — he  feels  that  he  was  created  for 
the  solitary  purpose  of  protecting,  defending,  comforting  this  one 
woman.  All  other  human  obligations  are  subsidiary.  And  finally, 
in  Holy  "Writ,  this  relation  is  invested  with  such  awful  sanctity, 
that  it  is  the  one  relation  constantly  selected  to  illustrate  the  union 
of  the  Eedeemer  and  the  redeemed.    And  the  sins  of  Apostasy  and 


MILES.  29 

Idolatry  are  constantly  represented  as  violations  of  the  marriage 
covenant.  So  the  common  sentiment  of  nu-n  amont:;  the  wisest  and 
the  best,  and  the  revealed  decree  of  God,  nnite  in  placing  the  mar- 
riage relation  in  the  front  rank  among  all  the  relations  of  earth.  It 
would  be  more  rational  for  you  to  say  you  would  not  accept  a  mother 
unless  she  were  rich,  than  to  say  you  would  not  accept  a  wife  until 
you  knew  the  extent  of  hej-  rent-roll.  You  may  make  a  legal  con- 
tract, binding  vou  to  give  your  name  to  a  woman,  and  to  live  with 
her  as  husband  and  wife — but  except  upon  the  conditions  I  have 
stated,  you  will  not  only  dishonour  yourself  as  an  English  gentleman, 
but  vou  will  deny  and  degrade  your  manhood!  There  is  the  noon 
gun !  Mr.  Ivayncford,  you  are  going  my  way.  JSIay  I  take  your 
arm?" 


CHAPTER    y. 

•  INIlLES. 


THERE  came  a  letter  from  Hyland  to  Lord  Rayneford  a  few 
months  after  the  events  last  narrated.  It  was  an  odd  mixture 
of  youthful  philosophy  with  more  or  less  graphic  accounts  of  Hy- 
land's  adventures  in  tlie  hill  country.  There  were  also  whimsical 
descriptions  of  his  new  acquaintances  among  the  military  men  and 
civilians,  and  specially  a  florid  description  of  a  Mr.  Glendare,  whose 
excellent  traits  were  once  and  again  eulogised  as  being  the  more 
remarkable  because  of  Mr.  Glendare's  concurrent  piety.  *'  How  a 
missionary,"  wrote  Hyland,  *'and  a  Scottish  miasionary,  and  a  Pres- 
byterian Episcopalian  to  boot,  can  be  so  wise  and  philosophical 
staggers  me !  It  overturns  many  of  my  pet  theories.  Probaljly 
Mr.  Glendare  is  the  exception  that  proves  the  universality  of  the 
contrary  rule." 

Then  there  were  some  cautious  allusions  to  !Mr.  Daltman.  Hy- 
land was  too  thoroughbred  to  write  uncomplimentary  things  about 
his  associates.  So  he  confined  his  references  to  Frank's  exploits  in 
field  and  jungle,  his  elegant  dancing,  or  his  easy  mastery  of  Hindo- 
stanee.  This  led  to  some  slight  talk  aljout  the  ladies,  as  Frank  was 
paying  devoted  court  to  Miss  Mordaunt,  the  reigning  belle  of  the 
Sanitarium.  An  invalid  of  great  beauty,  and  of  considerable  pros- 
pective wealth.  Daughter  of  Colonel  Mordaunt,  commanding  the 
station. 


30  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE: 

"  When  we  came  up  here,"  said  tlie  letter,  "  Frank  told  me  there 
were  two  Miss  Mordaunts,  and  kindly  offered  one  of  them  to  me. 
I  did  not  clearly  see  how  he  obtained  the  right  of  transfer,  but  he 
is  one  of  your  vcni,  vidi,  vici  fellows.  I  found  on  my  arrival  that 
the  other  was  a  shy,  angular  girl,  ten  years  younger  than  her  sister, 
and  totally  ineligible,  of  course.  The  sly  rascal  gave  me  a  choice 
of  names:  Haidee  and  Juliet.  I  selected  Haidee,  because  I  inwardly 
shudder  at  the  bare  idea  of  a  Juliet.  Well,  Juliet  is  the  elder,  the 
belle  and  the  heiress.  Poor  little  Haidee  is  a  nonentity.  I  i)osi- 
tively  do  not  know  what  she  is  like,  and  I  am  thinking  of  alimony. 

"Talking  of  alimony,  old  Miles,  I  have  reached  a  definite  conclu- 
sion. I  shall  never  marry — I  dare  not!  I  have  talked  with  Glen- 
dare  about  it  scores  of  times,  and  between  us  we  have  exhausted 
the  topic.  There  are  two  reasons  that  make  my  conclusion  :  first,  I 
have  never  seen  a  woman  that  I  would  be  willing  to  marry.  I  have 
never  met  the  woman  who  could  awaken  within  me  the  emotions  a 
gentleman  must  experience  before  he  dares  encounter  matrimony; 
second,  I  honestly  believe  there  is  no  such  woman  on  the  surface  of 
this  planet,  and  if  there  were  I  could  not  ask  her  to  marry  me, 
because  I  could  offer  no  equivalent.     Glendare  quotes  sometimes : 

'  I  bear  i'  my  belt  a  gude  braidsword, 
And  I'll  tak'  dunts  frae  naebody  !' 

and  I  give  the  quotation  because  it  expresses  my  feeling  in  some 
measure.  That  is:  I  will  marry  none  but  the  very  best  of  her  sex, 
and  I  will  not  place  myself  under  the  life-long  obligation  to  the 
peerless  woman  who  might  throw  herself  away  upon  me.  Don't 
you  see,  Miles,  that  I  am  hedged  in  on  two  sides?  Frank  insists 
that  the  obligation  is  reciprocal ;  that  the  husband  merits  the  wife's 
devotion  because  he  gives  her  protection,  counsel,  status  as  a  matron, 
and  a  multitude  of  self-abnegations.  But  he  does  not  count  the 
transfers  on  the  other  side.  A  wife  yields  her  very  identity.  She 
is  no  longer  a  personality.  In  a  few  years  shy  little  Haidee  will  be 
a  woman — Miss  Mordannt.  But  if  I  confirm  Frank's  plan,  and 
marry  her,  she  will  only  be  Mrs.  Hyland  Rayneford.  And  if  I  get 
my  lac  (which  has  actually  begun  to  grow),  and  some  more  lacs, 
even  enough  to  outweigh  as  many  lacs  as  her  sire  leaves  her — still, 
I  cannot  outweigh  the  tremendous  enunciations  through  which  she 
must  pass  to  wifehood. 

"  I'll  none  of  it !" 

Lord  Rayneford  laid  down  the  letter  at  this  point,  and  meditated. 


MILES.  31 

"The  boy  is  in  dead  earnest,"  he  thought,  "and  he  is  telling  me 
the  exact  shade  of  thought  that  possesses  him.  What  an  odd  mix- 
ture of  whim  and  nobleness  he  is!  I  can  hardly  believe  him  en- 
tirely insensible  to  Mildred's  attractions,  yet  I  have  never  heard  one 
word  from  him  about  her.  He  says  he  has  never  met  the  woman 
whose  attractions  were  sufficient  to  kindle  his  aH'ections.  Then  he 
has  none  to  kindle!"  Reaching  this  conclusion,  he  took  up  his 
brother's  letter  and  ])roceeded. 

*'  Now  you  are  rciidy  to  ask  why  I  do  not  relinquish  the  lac  and 
return  to  England?  If  I  have  forsworn  matrimony,  my  thousand 
j)Ounds  may  be  considered  affluence.  What  can  si  single  fellow  want 
that  a  thousand  a  year  will  not  purchase?  This  is  a  very  sensible 
question.  Miles.  And  I  will  be  frank  with  you,  brother,  and  tell 
you  my  exact  thought  upon  this  topic  also. 

"  This  money  ci\me  to  me  by  inheritance.  I  have  earned  none  of 
it,  and  therefore  I  cannot  enjoy  it!  I  must  get  another  thousand 
a  year  with  my  own  hands,  and  then  I  will  give  away  the  old 
one.  Do  you  know  that  I  got  my  fortune  through  the  operation  of 
a  will  made  by  our  maternal  grandfather  ?  No  doubt  you  know 
this.  But  do  you  know  that  this  special  thousand  was  set  apart  by 
Lord  Hyland,  because  his  father  had  so  devised  it,  when  our  mother 
was  in  infant  days?  Now  I  am  not  going  to  take  money  that  was 
thus  saddled  upon  me  two  generations  ago.  Two  generations  before 
I  was  born  ! 

"  I'll  none  of  it ! 

"  For  you  see,  Miles,  it  is  really  your  money.  If  there  had  not 
been  this  tyrannical  old  will  in  the  way,  the  beneficent  law  of  primo- 
geniture would  have  secured  it  to  you.  It  belongs  to  the  estate. 
It  would  pay  off  those  abominable  mortgages!     Take  it.  Miles!" 

"The  boy  is  distracted,"  said  Lord  llayneford,  pausing  once 
more.  "The  Indian  sun  has  turned  his  brain;  I  must  write  him 
another  letter."  And  he  seized  writing  materials  and  dashed  in 
mcdias  res. 

"  My  dear  Hyland,"  he  began,  "  I  have  already  mailed  you  an 
eight-page  letter  to-day;  but  your  last  missive,  just  received,  demands 
a  prompt  reply.  You  were  always  more  or  less  demented,  my  boy, 
but  this  last  exhibition  of  lunacy  alarms  me.  My  money,  indeed  ! 
Now  heed  me.  Master  Hylatid !  If  you  take  any  steps  to  dispossess 
yourself,  or  if  I  am  so  unhappy  as  to  outlive  you,  and  so  inherit 
your  thirty  thousand  pounds,  I  vow  that  I  will  give  the  money  to 
some  lunatic  asylum.     This  would  be  an  appropriate  monument  to 


32  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

your  memory,  you  dear  old  goose !  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about 
the  mortgages.  One  is  paid,  and  I  am  accumulating  funds  to  ])ay 
the  other.  When  you  bring  that  lac  home,  I  think  it  very  probable 
that  I  shall  be  as  rich  as  you.  I  have  a  scheme  in  mind  that  has 
grown  into  definite  shape  since  your  letter  arrived.  I  think  of  })aving 
off  all  my  encumbrances  by  one  coup.  I  ciuinot  trust  it  to  tiie  mail, 
but  a  sentence  in  your  letter  has  given  coherence  to  certain  vague 
purposes,  and  I  think  I  shall  begin  my  exj)eriment  at  once. 

"  The  sentence  I  refer  to  is  your  unequivocal  declaration  that  you 
have  never  met  the  woman  you  would  marry.  Then  you  do  not 
love  Mildred,  and  I  do  !  There,  brother  !  you  have  the  only  secret 
I  have  ever  kept  from  you.  I  have  admired  Miss  Carey  all  my  life, 
and  would  have  told  her  so  long  ago,  only  I  thought  you,  Hyland, 
were  also  smitten.  And  now  your  letter  assures  me  that  you  are 
heart-whole.  I  could  never  play  rival  to  you,  but  if  you  do  not 
yield  homage  to  her  charms,  I  am  free  to  court  her  on  my  own 
account. 

"  And  I'll  do  it !" 

When  Hyland  received  the  letter,  his  comment  upon  this  tender 
passage  was — "  Poor  old  Miles  !" 

However,  Lord  Rayneford  drove  over  to  Brentam  Villa  that  same 
afternoon.  Hyland's  letter  would  be  entertaining  to  Miss  Carey. 
He  would  read  some  passages  to  her,  especially  his  remarks  about 
Frank,  and  if  opportunity  served,  he  would  read  what  Hyland  said 
about  matrimony,  also. 

He  met  Mr.  Brentam  as  he  pa&sed  through  the  gates  of  Hawkley. 
The  old  gentleman  was  astride  his  black  cob,  his  groom  trotting 
soberly  behind  him. 

"  Ah  !"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  "  this  is  a  fortunate  meeting.  You  are 
going  to  the  Villa?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Rayneford.  "  I  have  a  letter  from  Hyland,  and 
I  thought  you  would  like  to  hear  what  he  says  of  Mr.  Daltman." 

"  Certainly  !  And  if  you  will  take  me  up  in  your  drag,  I  will 
send  my  horse  home.  Ah  !  this  is  superb  weather ;  never  saw  hops 
so  promising.  Here,  Tom !  take  Sultan  home.  And,  Rayneford, 
let  us  drive  down  by  the  mills.  It  is  a  little  longer,  but  I  Avaut  you 
to  see  my  hops.     How  is  Frank  ?     How  is  Hyland  ?" 

"  Both  well.     They  are  at  a  Sanitarium  in  the  hill  country." 

"  Yes.  Wish  they  were  here.  At  least,  I  wish  Hyland — no  use 
though,  it  would  take  too  long  to  get  him  home,  even  if  he  would 
come  !     I  have  a  scheme,  better  than  anything  in  India." 


MILES.  33 

"  Why,  I  have  a  scheme  as  well,"  said  Lord  Rayneford,  laughing, 
"and  I  intended  consulting  you  about  it  this  very  day." 

"Ah,  but  mine  is  a  money-making  scheme;  a  commercial  scheme, 
and  Ilvland  would  make  an  excellent  partner.  I^et  me  hear  your 
scheme,  and  I  will  reveal  mine." 

"  In  confidence  then,"  said  Lord  Rayneford,  "  I  have  thought  I 
might  better  my  fortunes  by  incurring  a  little  risk,  personal  and 
monetary." 

"  Well  ?"  said  Mr.  Brentam. 

"  I  thought  I  could  take  a  cargo  to  America,  and  bring  back  a 
cargo  of  cotton " 

"  Running  the  blockade!" 

"  Exactly  !  Do  not  look  so  astonished.  The  risks  are  not  nearly 
so  great  as  one  might  suppose.  I  only  require  a  navigator  who 
knows  the  coast — a  cargo  that  will  be  certain  of  ready  sale — say  in 
Charleston  or  Savannah,  and  a  ship  that  can  outsail  the  cruisers  that 
blockade  the  port ;  a  steamer,  in  fact." 

"  And  a  supercargo,"  added  Mr.  Brentam.  "  Where  will  you  find 
a  trustworthy  supercargo  ?" 

"  Here,"  replied  Rayneford,  laying  his  hand  on  his  own  breast. 

They  rode  along  in  silence  a  mile  or  more.  Miles,  who  was 
greatly  discouraged  by  his  companion's  grave  face,  began  to  discover 
a  hundred  objections  to  his  scheme  that  had  not  occurred  to  him  be- 
fore. It  was  the  more  humiliating  to  have  his  folly  revealed  to 
him,  by  the  few  crisp  sentences  he  expected,  from  the  keen  business 
man,  who  was  also  Mildred's  uncle. 

"  This  is  most  extraordinary  !"  ejaculated  Mr.  Brentam,  at  length ; 
"where  did  you  pick  up  this  scheme  of  yours?" 

"  Hawkley  is  encumbered,  Mr.  Brentam,"  replied  Miles,  "and  I 
am  most  eager  to  free  the  estate  from  debt.  One  or  two  ventures 
like  that  I  have  named  would,  if  successful,  do  all  I  hope  for." 

"  And  if  not  successful  ?" 

"  Then  I  should  be  obliged  to  practice  economy  so  long,  that  an- 
other purpose  I  entertain  would  have  to  be  relinquished.  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  at  once.  I  would  ask  Miss  Carey  to  be  my  wife  if  my 
estate  were  free.  But  I  cannot  ask  her  to  marry  me  while  my 
revenue  is  so  slender." 

"Mildred  has — some  money  of  her  own,"  said  ^Tr,  Brontam, 
cautiously  ;  "as  her  guardian,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  give  her  and 
her  fortune  into  your  custody,  Rayneford.    Have  you  spoken  to  her  ?" 

"  Certainly  not !     It  would  not  be  decorous  to  do  so  without  your 

8 


34  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

consent.  It  is  true  that  I  expected  to  have  your  sympathy  and 
your  approval.  You  have  been  so  kind  and  have  encouraged  me  so 
constantly.     But  my  poverty  is  an  insurmountable  barrier." 

"  Suppose  you  ask  her  ?" 

"  If  my  scheme  is  feasible — if  you,  with  your  experience,  can  en- 
dorse it — if  you  think  it  wise  to  risk  as  many  thousand  pounds  as  I 
can  raise  upon  this  venture — I  will  endeavour  to  learn  Miss  Carey's 
sentiments.     But  you  evidently  think  otherwise." 

"  Young  men  are  always  rash  !"  quoth  Mr.  Brentam,  "  always ! 
When  I  was  twenty-five,  I  was  rash  as  you  are  noM'.  And  I  gained 
conservatism  through  dismal  experiences  of  failure.  But  I  learned 
something  else.  I  learned  that  obstacles  and  unfavourable  criti- 
cisms should  never  divert  one  from  the  accomplishment  of  a  set 
purpose." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  the  other. 

"  I  mean  to  say  you  cannot  have  formed  a  plan  of  this  magnitude 
without  considerable  thought.  And  yet  you  appear  ready  to  relin- 
quish your  purpose  at  the  appearance  of  the  first  obstacle.  And 
that  exists  only  in  your  fancy  !" 

"  You  mystify  me  still  more,"  said  Lord  Rayneford. 

"Do  I?"  replied  his  companion,  with  a  chuckle;  "then  know 
that  your  scheme  is  mine !  I  have  the  vessel  in  my  mind.  She  is 
in  the  port  of  Glasgow  this  minute,  and  is  for  sale.  I  know  the 
navigator.  I  know  what  cargo  will  prove  most  certainly  profitable, 
and  I  regretted  Hyland's  absence,  because  I  wanted  him  for  super- 
cargo.    You  are  an  excellent  substitute,  only " 

"  Only  what  ?"  said  Miles,  eagerly. 

"  Only  English  noblemen  don't  usually  go  prowling  on  the  seas 
hunting  money." 

"  But  I  shall  become  plain  Mr.  Rayneford — or  Mr.  Miles,  until  I 
get  the  money.  I  have  spoken  to  no  one  but  you,  and  we  can  keep 
the  secret." 

"  There's  my  hand !"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  "  and  now — mum  !" 


MILDRED.  35 

CHAPTER   YI. 

Mildred. 

<'  IV/TUM"  was  a  very  good  word  at  this  juncture,  as  an  equcs- 

-LV_L  trian  jiartv  surrounded  the  dog-cart  at  the  close  of  the 
dialogue  just  recounted.  Miss  Mildred  Carey  led  the  cavalcade, 
consisting  of  half  a  dozen  ladies  and  gentlemen,  all  laughing  and 
talking  at  once. 

"  ^^'e  thought  you  were  asleep !"  she  said,  as  she  reined  her  horse 
alongside  the  vehicle.  "  Good-afternoon,  Lord  Rayneford  !  We 
have  followed  you  a  mile,  and  you  have  never  once  looked  back  ! 
What  in  the  world  were  you  discussing  so  earnestly  ?" 

"  Mr.  Brentam  selected  this  route  to  exhibit  his  hop-field,"  an- 
swered Miles,  deceitfully.     "  It  is  beautiful." 

"Did  you  see  it?"  enquired  Miss  Carey. 

"  Yes — no — tliat  is,  I  only  glanced  at  it." 

"A  very  cursory  view,  I  imagine,"  retorted  the  lady.  "You 
have  just  passed  the  field,  and  you  did  not  turn  your  lead." 

"  His  head  was  already  turned,  Mildred,"  said  her  uncle.  "  I 
have  been  giving  him  a  lecture  on  the  rashness  of  youth." 

"  Thrown  away  on  Rayncford  !"  ejaculated  Mr.  Sedley,  a  spruce 
cavalier  who  rode  on  Miss  Carey's  right.  "  He  never  was  rash  since 
I  have  known  him." 

"  But  I  am  growing  reckless,"  replied  Lord  Rayneford,  looking 
into  the  sparkling  eyes  of  Mildred;  "and  am  now  meditating  a 
desperate  deed." 

"  Going  to  stand  for  the  borough  ?"  said  Mr.  Sedley. 

"  Not  I." 

"  Going  over  to  Cork  to  join  the  steeple-chase  for  gentlemen 
riders  ?" 

"  No,  indeed." 

"You  are  certainly  not  going  to  bet  on  the  new  horse?" 

"  No.     I  shall  not  bet  on  anything." 

"  Well  !"  said  Mr.  Sedley,  "  I  can  think  of  no  other  desperate 
game — that  is— except  matrimony!     By  Jove!  I  have  guessed  it!" 

Miles  reddened  a  little,  then  laughed.  The  ladies — there  were 
three  of  them — exchanged  glances,  and  stole  furtive  looks  at  Mil- 
dred, all  unconscious.  It  was  totally  in  vain  that  Rayneford  sought 
for  some  encouraging  token  in  her  countenance.  Every  one  else  in 
the  party  was  certain  that  Miss  Carey  was  the  object  of  the  young 


36  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

nobleman's  attachment,  if  he  really  entertained  serious  intentions, 
but  she  gave  no  sign  to  him  or  to  any  one  else. 

"  Speaking  of  matrimony,"  she  said,  quietly,  "  I  received  a  letter 
from  Frank  to-day,  in  which  he  informs  me  that  your  brother  is 
preparing  to  enter  that  honoured  state." 

"  Hyland  ?"  answered  Miles.  "  Why,  I  have  a  letter  from  him 
to-day,  which  I  brought  over  to  show  you." 

"  Let  us  ride  on,  then,"  said  Mildred,  shaking  her  rein.  "  We 
will  meet  you  at  the  Villa  and  compare  notes.  If  Mr.  Rayneford 
has  not  revealed  his  intentions  to  you,  it  looks  very  suspicious. 
Come  on,  Mr.  Sedley !  We  will  ride  round  by  the  mills.  Au 
revoir .'" 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  as  the  gay  party  disappeared  down 
the  lane  leading  to  the  mills — "  I  think  we  will  be  wise  if  we  drive 
back  and  get  to  the  Villa  before  them.  We  shall  have  the  advantage 
of  a  mile  if  we  take  the  village  road.  I  have  all  the  details  of  the 
blockade-running  scheme  in  my  library,  and  we  should  decide  and 
act  promptly  if  we  act  at  all." 

"  You  surprise  and  charm  me,  ]Mr.  Brentam,"  said  Rayneford  ; 
"  I  am  more  than  ever  in  love  with  the  adventure,  and  feel  more 
confident  of  success  since  you  approve." 

"  Do  not  be  too  sanguine,  Rayneford,''  replied  his  more  sober 
companion ;  "  there  are  difficulties  to  be  surmounted,  and  many 
things  to  be  considered.  There  is  always  the  risk  of  a  total  loss. 
Do  not  forget  that.     Wait  until  you  see  my  paper." 

The  conference  in  the  library  was  prolonged  until  the  visitors  had 
all  departed.  Mr.  Brentam  had  fairly  set  down  all  the  arguments 
for  and  against  the  scheme.  Blockade-running  was  still  in  its  in- 
fancy.  Miles  stipulated  for  absolute  secrecy,  to  which  proposition 
Mr.  Brentam  heartily  agreed.  Rayneford  was  to  become  Mr.  Miles 
to-morrow,  and  to  sail  within  ten  days,  for  "  Nassau  and  a  market." 
Mr.  Brentam  was  to  undertake  all  the  details,  furnish  all  the  capital, 
and  give  the  supercargo  a  third  of  the  net  profits. 

"Xow,  Miles,"  said  the  elder,  as  they  concluded  their  interview, 
"you  have  an  excellent  chance.  The  'Nellie'  is  a  good  ship — a 
fast  sailor,  and  is  now  in  the  Clyde.  Your  ignorance  of  commercial 
matters  is  in  your  favour.  There  is  nothing  to  do  but  get  the  best 
prices  for  what  you  sell,  and  pay  the  least  for  what  you  buy.  You 
have  nothing  to  buy  except  cotton.  Your  brokers  in  Charlei5ton 
will  arrange  all  minor  details.  You  are  prudent  and  brave,  and  I 
am  sure  caution  and  pluck  will  bring  you  out.     I  will  add  that  you 


MILDRED.  37 

are  the  only  young  man  I  know,  except  Hyland,  that  I  would  trust. 
Now  go  see  Mildred." 

"  As  to  the  mutter  of  secrecy,"  said  Miles,  pausing  at  the  door, 
"  I  suppose  Miss  Carey  must  be  the  exception  ?" 

"  I  think  there  should  be  no  exception,"  replied  Mr.  Brentixm. 

"  I  hope  to  (K'oupy  such  a  j>ositiou  its  to " 

"  Humbug !"  interrupted  the  other ;  "  you  would  not  tell  your  wife 
evcrvthing?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  you  would  not  be  wise.  There  are  many  things  that  a 
man  should  not  tell  his  wife.  Such  as  other  people's  secrets,  for 
example.  Now,  I  am  specially  anxious  to  keep  my  share  of  this 
adventure  secret." 

"  But  your  niece? " 

"Specially  secret  from  her!  Da  as  you  please,  however.  Only 
have  a  clear  understanding  before  you  tell." 

Lord  Rayneford  found  Mildred  alone  in  the  drawing-room.  She 
was  reading  Daltman's  letter.  Miles  took  Hyland's  letter  from  his 
pocket  and  sat  down  beside  her. 

"  Xow,  Miss  Carey,"  said  he,  "  we  will  compare  notes  as  you  sug- 
gested.    What  does  your  cousin  say  about  Hyland  ?" 

"  I  thought  I  would  show  you  the  letter,"  she  replied,  "  but  I 
find  Frank  has  written  '  private  and  confidential'  at  the  top  of  the 
page." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Rayneford,  with  a  pang  of  jealousy. 

"  Yes.  But  I  may  tell  you  that  he  and  your  brother  have  found 
two  charming  sisters  in  India.  Frank  has  made  satisfactory  pro- 
gress with  the  elder,  and  Mr,  Rayneford — but  that  is  the  part  I 
should  consider  confidential." 

"  Ah  !  Well,  I  am  not  under  so  stringent  an  obligation,"  said 
Lord  Rayneford.  "  Hyland  declares  himself  heart-whole.  The 
younger  sister  is  a  mere  child " 

"  Indeed  !"  replied  Miss  Carey.  "  "Well,  this  is  what  Frank  says." 
And  she  read  from  the  letter :  "  "We  had  a  kind  of  toss-u))  before 
we  arrived,  and  Rayneford  won  Miss  Haidee.  He  is  always  lucky. 
She  is  rather  young,  but  a  lady  of  great  promise  and  prosjiects.  The 
old  colonel  will  cut  up  well.  Of  course,  I  think  Miss  Juliet  beyond 
compare.  Still,  Rayneford  is  in  luck,  as  his  prize  is  just  in  his  style, 
dreamy  and  romantic.  She  has  no  end  of  queer  notions,  and  be- 
lieves in  chivalry,  and  all  that  sort  of  humbug.  And  my  friend 
Rayneford  is  just  full  of  the  same  kind  of  stutf.     You  should  hear 


38  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

him  talk  about  reciprocal  obligations.  He  is  in  the  same  style  as 
Hamish.     By-the-bye,  Hamish  is  developing  wonderfully " 

"  Hamish  ?"  said  Miles.     "  Hyland  does  not  mention  him." 

"  Mr.  Glendare,"  explained  Mildred ;  "  he  is  a  missionary  who 
was  asked  up  to  the  hill  country  for  his  health." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Glendare!  My  letter  is  filled  with  his  j^raises.  I 
imagine  he  must  be  a  very  superior  man,  as  Hyland  is  not  usually 
lavish  of  his  commendations." 

"  He  is  related  to  us,  and  has  always  been  a  good  friend  to 
Frank." 

There  was  something  in  Miss  Carey's  tones  that  aroused  the  jealousy 
of  her  comj)anion.  He  was  a  man  of  direct  honesty,  and  after  a 
few  minutes'  reflection,  he  plunged. 

"  You  did  not  ask  what  desperate  venture  I  had  in  my  mind  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  steadily,  without  reply. 

"I  thought  you  might  have  seen  it  in  my  eyes,"  he  continued,  "or 
that  you  had  long  ago  discovered  my  admiration  of  you.  I  do  not 
know  what  are  the  proper  words  to  employ — except  to  ask  you  to 
be  my  wife.  If  professions  of  ardent  attachment  should  be  made, 
I  fear  I  cannot  put  my  thoughts  into  appro})riate  words.     I " 

"Lord  Rayneford,"  said  Mildred,  interrupting  him,  "I  beg  you 
will  say  no  more.     You  distress  me  greatly." 

"I  would  not  willingly  do  that,"  said  Miles;  "am  1  to  under- 
stand you  as  rejecting  my  suit " 

"  Do  not  say  that,  I  beg  you,"  said  Mildred ;  "  y"OU  are  so  truthful 
and  honest,  that  I  know  you  are  serious.  But  let  us  agree  to  con- 
sider your  proposal  a  jest.  I  beg  you  !"  she  continued,  as  he  was 
about  to  speak — "  you  do  not  know  how  it  pains  me." 

"  Have  you  never  suspected  my  sentiments,  Mildred?" 

"  I  have  feared  you  had  some — some  liking  for  me,  my  lord,  but 
I  hoped  it  would  pass  away.  I  entertain  so  high  a  regard  for  you 
that  I  could  not  refuse  your  attentions.  Besides,  I  could  not  know 
certainly  that  your  feelings  were  more  than  friendly." 

"  I  am  such  a  novice,"  said  Lord  R,ayneford,  after  a  short  pause, 
"  that  I  do  not  know  whether  to  accept  this  answer  as  final  or  not. 
I  should  have  spoken  years  ago  but  for  two  reasons." 

She  looked  at  him  enquiringly,  and  he  continued : 

"  I  thought  Hyland  loved  you  until  to-day,  and  I  did  not  dare  to 
think  of  you  while  he  was  in  the  way.  But  this  letter  assures  me 
of  my  mistake.  And  when  I  read  his  assurance,  which  I  know  to 
be  true,  that  he  had  never  met  the  woman  he  would  marry,  I  came 


MILDRED.  39 

directly  to  you.  The  other  mxrioii  was  my  poverty.  And  even  now 
my  estate  is  sadly  encumbered,  but  I  hope  for  entire  deliverance 
iVum  debt  in  the  near  future.  And  indeed  I  meant  ray  proposal  to 
contain  this  condition— that  your  acceptance  should  be  contingent 

upon  mv  success ' 

-  My' lord,  vou  insult  me !"  said  Mildred,  haughtily.  Then,  see- 
in.r  the  pained  expression  upon  his  handsome  visage,  she  arose  and 
hdd  out  her  hand  to  him.  "  Forgive  me,  Miles !  We  have  l)een 
friends  from  childhood,  and  your  preference  for  me  is  the  most  flat- 
tering tribute  I  have  ever  received.  Let  us  be  friends  still.  If  I 
couK?  love  you  as  vou  deserve,  and  as  I  mmi  love  the  man  I  marry,  I 
would  be  proud  to  be  your  wife,  and  no  gifts  of  fortune  could  aifect 
mv  regard  for  you.  And  it  is  only  because  I  know  this  to  be 
iniposJible,  that  I  decline  the  great  honour  you  offer  me  so  peremp- 
torily. It  can  never  be.  Miles!  Nay,  my  friend,  do  not  say  another 
word.  I  have  no  heart  to  give'you !"  And  she  put  her  slender 
fingers  over  her  eyes  to  repress  the  sudden  tears  that  trickled  through 

them. 

Lord  Rayneford  kissed  the  hand  she  had  placed  in  his,  and, 
drawing  it  upon  his  arm,  took  up  his  hat. 

"Come,"  he  said,  with  courteous  kindness— " come  out  on  the 
lawn.  We  will  not  renew  this  subject.  We  have  known  each  other 
too  long  to  be  other  than  friends.  And  I  think  I  can  labour  for 
your  happiness— after  a  while— even  if  some  other  fellow  should 
succeed  wiien  I  have  failed.  Dry  your  eyes  and  come  out.  Your 
uncle  is  there.  We  will  not  annoy  him  with  our— our  quarrel! 
And,  good-bye,  Mildred.  I  am  going  away  for  a  time.  Not  on 
account  of  this— quarrel  of  ours,  I  assure  you.  Mr.  Brentam,  I 
must  say  adieu.     I  am  going  to  take  a  short  journey  to-night." 

Five  minutes  later,  as  Miles  climbed  into  his  dog-cart,  Mr. 
Brentam  sidled  up  to  him. 

"  Did  you  tell  Mildred  about  your  adventure?"  he  asked. 

"  Not  a  word.  If  you  keep  the  secret,  no  one  except  ourselves 
will  know  of  Mr.  Miles'  departure.  I  shall  wait  at  Glasgow  for 
your  letter." 


40  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

CHAPTER    VII. 
The    "Nellie." 

ON  the  first  day  of  September,  just  as  the  sun  touclied  the  edge 
of  the  western  horizon,  the  sharp-eyed  skipper  of  the  "Nellie," 
screw  steamer,  saw  the  topmasts  of  four  war-ships,  two  of  them 
rising  and  falling  on  the  restless  tide,  at  the  entrance  to  Charleston 
harbour.  The  other  two  were  evidently  standing  out  to  sea,  and  the 
last  glimpse  the  captain  caught  of  them,  by  the  fading  light,  showed 
their  masts  in  line  on  both  bows  of  the  "Nellie,"  indicating  their 
approach  to  the  exact  spot  his  vessel  occupied.  What  wind  there 
was  came  directly  from  the  coast,  and  the  "  Nellie"  did  not  show  a  rag 
of  canvas.  But  the  two  war-ships  spread  their  topsails  to  the  gentle 
breeze,  while  the  black  smoke  from  their  funnels  stained  the  golden 
sky  above  the  low  line  of  the  South  Carolina  coast. 

Captain  Sparks  was  in  the  foretop,  and  the  supercargo  stood  near 
him  holding  on  by  the  shrouds.  They  had  each  taken  a  steady  look 
through  the  glass,  in  the  last  minutes  of  daylight,  and  when  the 
approaching  ships  had  disappeared  in  the  gathering  gloom,  the  two 
men  descended  to  the  deck  and  walked  aft  without  exchanging  a 
word.  Seating  themselves  on  the  edge  of  the  after-hatch,  the  cap- 
tain comforted  himself  with  a  large  slice  of  plug  tobacco,  while 
the  other  waited  with  exemplary  patience  for  an  expression  of  his 
opinion. 

"  Wa-al,  Mr.  Miles,"  said  the  skipper,  at  last,  "  them's  the  same 
two  fellers  as  give  us  a  chase  off  Nassau." 

"Do  you  recognise  them,  captain?" 

"Ya-as!  And  you  may  just  bet  your  bottom  dollar  that  they 
recognise  us,  too.  Now  we've  got  to  move  along  party  lively,  one 
way  or  t'other.     Mr.  Brown  !" 

The  mate  came  aft  at  the  call. 

"Mr.  Brown,  just  go  'round  to  every  man  on  board  and  give 
strict  orders :  Fust.  No  lights  of  any  kind ;  no  pipes  or  cigars. 
Second.  No  jawin'  after  the  next  half-hour.  If  anybody  has  got 
any  gab  in  his  locker  that  won't  keep,  let  him  get  it  off  at  oncet.  At 
half-past  seven  I'll  muzzle  every  mother's  son  of  'em,  if  they  speak 
above  a  whisper." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !"  responded  the  mate. 

"  Git  along,  then,  and  give  your  orders.  Now,  Mr.  Miles,  yonder's 
Charleston,  off  the  starboard  bow.     There  is  two  blazers  lay  in'  off 


THE  '^NELLIEr  41 

and  on,  a  mile  this  side  the  bar.  Tiiere's  two  more  blazers  boarin' 
right  down  on  us.     I  crave  to  know  what  you  propose  to  do?" 

"  I  intend  to  obey  your  orders,  captain,"  responded  the  supercargo. 

"But  I'm  under  yourn!  Will  you  risk  the  run  to-night,  or  shall 
■we  turn  tail  and  skeet  out  to  sea,  or  run  down  the  coast  and  try  for 
Savanny  ?" 

"I  leave  all  to  your  judgment,  captain,"  replied  the  supercargo. 
"  I  do  not  wish  to  incur  any  needless  risk,  but  should  like  to  land." 

"  Risk !"  resjwnded  the  caj)tain.  "  It's  a  risky  business  all 
through  !  If  them  fellers  overhaul  us,  good-bye  to  sliip  and  cargo ! 
Confistication  is  the  word.  I  s'pose  you  knowed  that  when  you 
started  on  this  cruise  ?" 

"Certainly.  But  I  relied  upon  Captain  Sparks  so  entirely,  and 
have  seen  so  many  evidences  of  his  skill  and  acuteness  on  the  voyage, 
that  I  feel  tolerably  confident  still." 

"  Wa-al,"  said  the  captain,  with  a  grin  of  satisfaction,  "  I'll  do  my 
level  best.  This  is  my  guess.  Them  cruisers  have  sighted  us,  of 
course.  We  could  not  see  them  without  their  seein'  us.  They  are 
bearin'  straight  down  on  us  this  minnit." 

"  That  seems  very  probable." 

"  Well,  now  to  dodge  'em  ag'in.  Off  Nassau,  I  concluded  they 
would  spread  out,  so  I  run  right  between  'em.  Now,  you  can't  fool 
'em  twicet  with  the  same  trick,  so  I  propose  to  put  the  helm  hard-a- 
j)ort,  to  run  an  hour  due  noath,  then  head  for  the  coast  ag'in,  and 
run  in.  We'll  git  round  that  feller  on  the  starboard  bow,  and  while 
he  is  runnin'  east,  we'll  be  goin'  west.  Not  likely  to  run  afoul  of 
each  other  this  week  !" 

"  But  the  two  steamers  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor?" 

"  They'll  be  watchin'  out  for  signals.  And  while  they're  gapin' 
out  to  seaward,  I  propose  to  run  in  between  'em." 

"  I  am  content,  Captain  Sparks.     What  shall  I  do?" 

"  I  would  say,  git  down  in  thejcabin  and  turn  in." 

"  Many  thanks,  captain.     I  prefer  the  deck." 

"  There  may  be  some  old  iron  flyin'  round  here,  promiscuous-like," 
said  the  captiiin,  in  a  hoarse  whisper.  "  It  is  most  likely  they'll  catch 
sight  of  the  'Nellie,'  and  if  they  do,  you  may  bet  your  last  stamp 
that  they'll  want  a  closer  acquaintance.  Now,  I  don't  propose  to 
stop  when  they  tell  me.  In  fact,  I'm  pressed  for  time!  So  they'll 
be  thnnderin'  apt  to  shoot  at  us  a  few !" 

"  All  right,  captain,"  replied  the  other.  "I  am  more  determined 
than   ever  to  stand  by  you.     One  of  those  bits  of  old  iron   might 


42  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

hit  you,  and  in  that  event,  I  should  like  to  see  your  plan  carried 
out." 

"  Thought  so !"  muttered  the  captain,  as  he  rose.  "  Too  much 
derned  grit  to  keep  his  head  out  of  a  mess.  Well,  Mr.  Miles,  I've 
done  harder  things  than  this  more  than  oncet.  I  guess  we'll  git 
through.     Brown  !  have  you  gi'n  your  orders?" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir  !" 

"  Hard-a-port !"  said  tlie  captain.  "  Steady  so !  Silence  in  the 
ship  for  the  next  two  hours.  I  want  to  do  all  the  jawin'  that's  done, 
till  we're  in  smooth  water.  Mr,  Miles,  I'm  goin'  forward  to  the 
wheel-house.  Will  you  come  along?  I  want  to  give  my  orders 
without  howlin'." 

The  "Nellie"  was  painted  a  dull  lead  colour  all  over.  Even  the 
funnel  was  freshly  painted  every  day,  and  in  the  night  she  was  totally 
invisible  at  a  short  distance.  The  only  light  on  board  was  a  feeble 
glimmer  in  the  binnacle,  and  this  was  so  completely  shadowed  by  the 
sliding  shutters  and  by  a  tarpaulin  screen  in  addition,  that  the  vessel 
might  be  considered  in  total  darkness. 

No  sound  was  heard  but  the  wash  of  the  sea  and  the  thump  of 
the  machinery  as  the  "  Nellie"  plunged  ahead  on  her  new  tack. 
The  supercargo  counted  the  slowly-creeping  minutes,  and  almost 
expected  to  see  the  dawn  appear,  while  the  skipper  masticated  his 
quid  in  apparent  unconcern.  The  hour  passed,  however,  and  as  the 
captain  approached  the  steersman,  a  faint  streak  of  light  shot  up  in 
the  sky  to  seaward.  A  minute  later  another  gleam,  a  little  south  of 
the  first,  also  marked  the  eastern  sky. 

"All  right!"  whispered  Captain  Sparks.  "Hard  a  starboard, 
Tom  !     So  !     Steady  now.     Can  you  see  the  compass,  Tom  ?" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !"  said  the  helmsman. 

"  Keep  her  west-sou' west  to-  a  hair." 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !" 

"Them  was  rockets,"  said  th§  captain  to  Mr.  Miles;  "they 
signalled  one  another.  S'pose  they  was  sayin'  they  couldn't  see 
us." 

"  What  next,  captain  ?"  whispered  the  supercargo. 

"  I  guess  there  won't  be  nothin'  startlin'  for  an  hour  or  two.  I'm 
goin'  to  git  a  mouthful  of  grub.  Look  right  over  the  davit  amid- 
ships.    Do  you  see  that  star?" 

"Yes." 

"  That's  the  north  star.  I  calkilate  we  shall  see  the  lights  on  them 
blockaders   inside  of  two   hours.     I'm   steerin'  for  'em,  straight. 


THE  '^NELLIEr  43 

While  you  see  that  star  on  the  starboard  quarter  we  arc  going  right. 
My  notion  is  this:  them  two  fellers  shootiu'  rockets  out  yonder 
have  left  the  other  two  to  watch  the  harbour.  Nat'rally  they're 
layiu'  otf  the  bar.  So  if  I  steer  for  them,  I  am  steerin'  for  the 
harbour." 

The  "Nellie"  kept  steadily  on  her  course,  while  ^Ir.  Miles  paced 
the  deck  between  the  wheel-house  and  forward  hatch.  Nothing 
visible  but  the  stars  and  the  delicate  tracery  of  the  rigging  against 
the  dark  vault,  as  the  vessel  rolled  from  side  to  side.  While  the 
supercargo  was  wat^-hing  the  little  Dipper,  the  captain  and  mate 
api)roacired  with  noiseless  steps ;  they  had  on  rubber  overshoes. 

"  Ka.se  her  up  a  point,  Tom  !"  said  Captivin  Sparks.  "  So !  steady, 
now!  And  don't  you  mind  any  orders  from  me  spoke  out  loud. 
When  I  want  you  to  change  your  course  I'll  whisper.  D'ye  under- 
stand?" 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !" 

"  No  matter  how  much  I  cuss  or  cut  up  rough,  keep  her  nose 
pointin'  just  as  you've  got  her  till  I  whisper.  Keep  your  ears  open 
and  keep  your  wits  about  you.  Don't  git  skeart !  I  know  every 
inch  of  this  harbour,  and  once  past  them  blazers  we're  all  right. 
All  hands  below,  Mr.  Brown  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.     No  one  on  deck  but  us  four." 

"  All  right.  Mr.  Miles,  one  of  them  blockaders  is  right  off  our 
port  bow.  In  ten  minutes  we  shall  see  her.  I  caught  a  flash  o' 
light  just  now,  and  I  expect  to  pass  her  only  forty  rods  off.     All 

quiet  now  !" 

:Mr.  Miles  peered  eagerly  into  the  gloom.  Twenty  times  in  the 
ten  minutes  he  thought  he  descried  the  dark  hull  and  tapering  masts 
of  the  cruiser,  but  each  time  he  was  mistaken.  Suddenly  the  cap- 
tain touched  his  shoulder,  and  pointed  his  bony  finger  over  the  bul- 
wark. At  the  same  instant  there  was  a  flash  of  blue  light  abreast 
the  "  Nellie,"  and  the  supercargo  saw  the  outlines  of  the  war-ship 
with  her  side  bristling  with  guns. 

"  Ship  ahoy  !"  came  across  the  water.     "  What  ship  is  that?" 
"  The  United  States  supply-ship  *  Union' !"    promptly  answered 

Captain  Sparks. 

"  Heave  to  !"     There  was  an  unmistakable  menace  in  the  tone  of 

this  order. 

"  xVye,  aye,  sir  !"  replied  the  cheerful  Sparks.  "  Hard  a  starboard, 
mate!  Hard  down,  you  booby!  Stop  the  ingine!  Cuss  your 
clumsy   skin!     D'ye  hear?     Stop  the  engine!"     And  then  iu  a 


44  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

whisper,  "  Port,  Tom  !  Port !  two  points.  So  !  steady  !"  And  the 
"Nellie"  glided  past  the  row  of  guns. 

"  Heave  to  !  you  scoundrel !"  shouted  the  officer,  now  plainly 
visible  as  he  stood  in  the  shrouds  of  the  frigate ;  "  heave  to,  instantly, 
or  I'll  sink  you  !" 

"Sink  and  be  blowed !"  answered  Captain  Sparks.  "Starboard, 
Tom !  We  are  pooty  well  out'en  this  mess !  Duck  your  heads 
down  !     He's  goin'  to  shoot !" 

A  vivid  flash,  the  whistle  of  a  ball  just  over  their  heads,  and  the 
roar  of  the  gun  all  came  together. 

"  Leetle  more  starboard,  Tom  !"  whispered  the  captain. 

Another  flash  and  roar,  and  another,  and  Mr.  INIiles  felt  the 
"  Nellie"  shudder  with  the  shock  that  nearly  brought  him  to  his 
knees.  There  was  a  pang  of  disappointment,  but  he  braced  himself 
up  to  meet  the  inevitable,  and  was  surprised  to  see  Captain  Sparks 
and  the  mate  shaking  hands  and  laughing  uproariously. 

"  Needn't  be  skeart,  Mr.  Miles!  That  bump  was  the  bar!  No 
harm  done,  and  that  blazer  is  clean  licked !  Hang  out  your  lights. 
Brown!  Everywhere!  Don't  want  to  get  a  shot  from  Sumter! 
Slow  her  down,  Tom  !  all  plain  sailin'  now.  Say,  Brown,  don't  you 
think  them  four  fellers  are  doin'  some  fancy  cussin'  this  blessed 
minit?  I  s'pose  they've  let  forty  tliousand  dollars  slip  through 
their  fingers.  Tumble  up,  boys,  and  hang  out  your  lights.  Gimme 
a  cigar,  Mr.  Miles  !     Thankee  !" 


CHAPTEE    VIII. 
Knighthood. 

THE  duties  devolving  upon  Mr.  Hyland  Rayneford  at  Nuttagur 
station  were  not  very  onerous,  but  he  did  not  lead  an  idle  life, 
by  any  means.  There  were  surveys  to  be  made,  day  after  day,  as 
the  Honourable  Company  projected  certain  improvements  in  that 
locality.  Mr.  Rayneford  was  apt  with  his  pencil,  and  Colonel  Mor- 
daunt,  who  was  a  capital  civil  engineer,  illustrated  his  frequent 
reports  with  sketches  made  by  Mr.  Rayneford.  There  were  occa- 
sional expeditions  in  all  directions  from  Nuttagur — sometimes  five 
miles  and  sometimes  twenty  miles  distant.  Some  parts  of  the  sur- 
rounding country  were  historical  spots,  deriving  additional  interest 


KNIGIiriWOD.  45 

from  tlie  fiut  that  hostile  forces  had  traversed  the  ground  In  the 
dark  days  of  the  Sepoy  mutiny.  Nuttajrur  had  been  a  missionary 
station  only  in  the  okl  time,  but  was  now  a  military  post  as  well, 
and  the  ollieers  who  were  stationed  there  congratulated  themselves 
upon  their  gowl  fortune  in  being  so  many  feet  above  the  ari^l  plain 
of  Caleutta. 

The  Sanitarium,  as  it  is  called,  is  on  a  little  range  of  hills  east  of 
Kushnu^nir,  and  the  altitude  was  not  very  great.  After  the  mutiny, 
the  station  had  assumed  increased  importance  as  a  military  post,  and 
the  missionary  buildings  had  been  given  over  to  John  Company  in 
exchange  for  more  commodious  ones  a  little  more  inland.  Mr. 
Glendare,  wlu)se  health  seemed  to  improve  by  constant  exercise  and 
exposure,  made  frequent  trips  to  the  new  station,  always  walking, 
and  generally  accompanied  by  Hyland  and  two  or  three  natives, 
partly  soldiers  and  partly  servants.  One  of  the  latter,  Zeba  by 
name,  considered  himself  Hyland's  bodyguard,  and  was  a  splendid 
si>ecimen  of  Hindoo  humanity.  He  was  very  proud  of  his  military 
status,  and  of  his  medal  and  clasps  won  during  the  time  of  the 
revolt,  when  his  regiment  had  once  and  again  passed  through 
sanguinary  battles  with  his  rebellious  countrymen. 

Mr.  Glendare  was  a  skilful  amateur  photographer,  and  many  of 
the  more  striking  bits  of  scenery  between  the  mission  and  the  camp 
were  transferred  to  his  portfolio.  Some  of  them  were  copied  by 
Hyland,  in  hours  of  luxurious  ease,  on  the  verandah  of  the  mission 
bungalow.  The  red  tape  of  the  instructions  demanded  pencil  sketches 
at  the  date  of  this  story,  but  the  more  accurate  presentments  of  the 
sun-painting  are  now  admissible  in  engineers'  reports. 

Zeba  had  been  assigned  to  Hyland  soon  after  the  arrival  of  Col- 
onel Mordaunt  and  his  fragment  of  a  regiment  at  Nuttagur.  Some 
of  the  expeditions  through  the  jungle  were  thought  to  be  more  or  less 
risky,  as  the  memory  of  the  famous  mutiny  was  still  uppermost  in 
the  mind  of  the  commanding  officer,  and  armed  attendants  always 
accompanied  the  Europeans  in  their  wanderings.  Zeba,  in  his  red 
jacket  and  turban,  was  a  picturesque  warrior,  overflowing  with 
politeness,  and  Hyland  and  Mr.  Glendare  were  both  attached  to 
him.  His  English  was  remarkably  good,  and  on  many  occasions 
their  journeys  were  enlivene<l  by  argumentation  upon  knotty  points 
in  Theology.  The  native  was  a  devout  Mussulman,  and  conse- 
quently a  profound  fatalist.  The  verbal  warfare  was  triangular,  as 
Hyland  resisted  Mr.  Glendare's  Calvinism  as  stoutly  as  he  opposed 
the  errors  of  the  Hindoos'  creed.     The  missionary  was  very  earnest 


46  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

in  his  efforts  to  make  a  convert  of  Zeba,  who,  in  turn,  took  great 
delight  in  bringing  the  pithy  quotations  from  the  Koran  against  the 
Scripture  texts  hurled  at  him  by  the  missionary, 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Glendare,"  said  Hyland,  on  one  occasion, 
when  the  trio  were  consuming  cheroots  under  the  shade  of  a  great 
rock,  a  few  miles  from  the  station — "  it  seems  to  me  that  you  and 
Zeba  might  reach  a  compromise.  I  can  detect  but  little  difference 
between  you  in  this  matter  of  fate.  Of  course,  you  have  an  ad- 
vantage in  quoting  from  Holy  AVrit;  but  considered  philosophically, 
your  postulates  have  a  family  resemblance." 

"  Man  write  Sahib  Glendare's  Book.  Man  write  Koran,"  said 
Zeba,  sententiously. 

"  There  !"  said  Hyland.  "  You  are  driven  to  the  proof  of  in- 
spiration, you  see." 

"  Yes,"  replied  ^Ir.  Glendare ;  "  if  the  Koran  could  give  evidence 
of  its  inspiration,  Zeba  would  stand  on  very  solid  ground.  But  the 
book  lacks  any  such  proof.  There  is  so  much  in  it  that  is  unclean, 
immoral,  and  unphilosophical,  that  its  character  is  bad.  Nothing 
good  could  come  from  so  much  evil." 

"  Lotus  grow  in  the  mud  !"  said  Zeba. 

"  Bravo,  Zeba !"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  with  unaffected  admiration. 
"I  have  never  encountered  a  disputant  more  ready  than  you  !  Your 
answer  is  most  acute,  but  the  lotus  is  not  the  product  of  the  mud. 
It  owes  its  sweetness  to  the  sun.  It  derives  its  beauty  from  the 
heavens.  If  it  were  not  for  these  influences  that  give  it  life  and 
character,  you  would  not  be  attracted.  The  difference  between  your 
sacred  book  and  mine  is  found  in  the  internal  evidence  furnished 
by  both.  INIine  inculcates  beneficence  as  the  one  law  of  the  race. 
Yours  teaches  no  such  lesson." 

"Sahib  teach  too  much!"  responded  the  Hindoo.  "Soft  hand  for 
friends ;  sharp  tulwar  for  enemies  !"  And  he  tapped  the  hilt  of  his 
weapon  wdth  his  slender  fingers.  "  In  Paradise  the  brave  warrior 
pitches  his  tent  near  the  tent  of  the  Prophet.  Your  Book  say, 
*  Love  enemy  !'  No  warrior  love  enemy.  Sahib  make  laugh  for 
Hindoo  !  When  you  fight  Nena  Sahib,  you  say,  '  Kill,  kill !'  You 
not  kill  when  you  love  I" 

"  It  is  strange,"  said  Glendare,  turning  to  Hyland,  "  to  find  the 
same  traditional  form  of  belief  in  opposite  creeds.  The  Christian 
habitually  looks  forward  to  a  future  dwelling  near  the  person  of  his 
Prophet.  Here  is  the  same  anticipation  declared  by  our  heathen 
friend " 


KNIGHTHOOD.  47 

"  Mi)hamincdaii  not  heathen!"  Siiid  Zol)a;  "there  is  one  God,  and 
Molianimeil  is  His  Prophet !" 

The  disciis.sioii  was  rudely  interrupted  at  this  point  by  a  scream 
of  terror.  The  two  tlauj^hters  of  Coh)nel  Mordannt  had  walked  out 
from  Nuttagur,  escorted  by  Mr.  Daltman,  to  the  present  line  of 
survey.  A  railway  was  projected,  and  the  route  followed  tlie  range 
of  hills,  terminating  with  the  giant  rock  under  whose  shadow  the 
trio  were  reclining.  Hvland  started  to  his  feet  and  dashed  round 
the  base  of  the  rock,  followed  by  his  two  companions.  He  found 
the  ladies,  with  Daltman,  on  the  survey-side.  Juliet,  the  elder,  was 
pointing  her  trembling  finger  at  the  thick  jungle  fringing  the  hill- 
side, and  Daltman,  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  was  eagerly 
peering  in  the  indicated  direction.  Haidee  stood  a  little  apart,  her 
face  bound  up  in  snowy  muslin.  She  was  a  victim  of  neuralgia, 
poor  child ! 

*'  M'hat  has  happened  ?"  said  Hyland,  glancing  from  one  to  the 
other. 

"  A  tiger !"  said  Juliet,  catching  his  arm  and  clinging  to  it.  "  I 
saw  it  twice  !  Mr.  Daltman  laughed  at  me ;  but  I  saw  it.  There  ! 
there !" 

The  Hindoo  passed  the  excited  group,  his  gun  cocked  and  his 
finger  on  the  trigger.  Twenty  yards  in  advance  he  stoppe<l,  and, 
slowly  turning  his  head  from  side  to  side,  closely  scrutinised  the 
dense  vegetation  in  front. 

"  What  have  you  seen  ?"  asked  Hyland,  as  Daltman  turned  towards 
him. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Daltman,  slowly,  while  his  eyes  contradicted 
his  words.     "Let  us  return  by  the  railway  survey." 

"  It  is  through  jungle,  a  long  mile,"  interposed  Mr.  Glendare ;  "  it 
is  wiser  to  retrace  your  steps." 

"  That  is  through  jungle  also,"  said  Daltman.  "  Suppose  we  send 
the  Hindoo  back  for  reinforcements?  He  can  leave  his  weapons 
with  us,  just  to  tranquillize  the  ladies,  you  know." 

"  And  send  him  unarmed  ?"  asked  Hyland. 

"  Yes,  certainly  !     There  is  nothing  to  dread.     Besides " 

"  Besides  what  ?" 

"  He  is  only  a  native,"  whispered  Daltman. 

Hyland  walked  up  to  Zeba  and  touched  his  shoulder.  The 
Hindoo  turned  with  grave  politeness  and  bent  his  head. 

"  Salaam,  sahii)." 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  ?" 


48  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Nothing,  sahib.     Yes.     The  tree  yonder  shook." 

"  Is  the  tiger  there,  Zeba?" 

"  Yes,  sahib." 

"  Are  you  frightened,  Zeba  ?"  said  Hyland,  looking  keenly  into 
the  black  eves  of  the  soldier. 

"  No,  sahib,"  responded  the  other,  steadily. 

"  Then  listen.  We  will  go  back  to  the  bungalow.  You  and  I 
will  lead.  Then  the  ladies.  Then  Mr.  Daltman  and  Mr.  Glendare. 
Lend  me  your  sword." 

Zeba  turned  his  left  side  to  his  interlocutor,  and  Hyland  drew  the 
keen  blade  from  the  scabbard.  The  Hijuloo,  still  facing  the  hillside, 
retreated  step  by  step,  walking  backwards. 

"  Give  me  the  tulwar,  Rayneford,"  said  Daltman. 

"  Not  I !"  replied  Hyland.     "  Your  hand  is  too  large  for  the  hilt." 

""  Give  me  the  weapon  !"  said  Daltman,  impatiently.  "  You  are 
only  a  civilian." 

"  And  therefore  not  under  military  authority.  I  decline  to  part 
with  this  sharp " 

The  report  of  Zeba's  gun  interrupted  the  sentence.  Hyland  turned 
around,  and  saw  the  native  facing  the  huge  rock  beneath  Avhose  shade 
they  had  just  been  resting.  The  blue  smoke  was  curling  from  the 
muzzle  of  his  gun,  still  pointing  to  the  summit  of  the  rock.  All 
eyes  were  directed  to  the  same  object,  and  took  in  the  same  appalling 
vision — a  great  tiger,  crouching  for  the  spring,  and  then  the  yellow 
body  flying  through  the  air,  and  then  the  shock  of  his  enormous 
bulk  against  the  Hindoo,  facing  him  with  unflinching  pluck,  and 
then  a  confused  mass  of  struggling  life,  the  white  turban  and  red 
jacket  of  the  man  mingling  with  the  black  stripes  on  the  lithe  yellow 
body  of  the  brute,  as  they  whirled  around  on  the  earth. 

With  two  bounds  Hyland  reached  the  group,  and  as  the  tiger 
crouched  again,  Avhile  his  tail  waved  from  side  to  side,  he  paused, 
■witli  uplifted  weapon.  Th«  two  glared  at  each  other  an  instant 
with  burning  eyes. 

"Pooh!"  whispered  Rayneford  to  himself,  while  his  heart  beat 
under  the  strong  excitement ;  "  pooh  !  it  is  only  an  overgrown  cat. 
Now  if  Frank  has  sense  enough  to  take  the  women  away.     Ah  !" 

The  tiger  drew  his  body  together,  and,  with  an  angry  growl,  once 
more  leaped  from  the  ground.  Hyland  took  one  step  aside,  and  with 
a  swift  sweep  of  the  tulwar  struck  the  beast  between  the  ears.  One 
great  paw,  already  dripping  with  blood,  caught  his  shoulder,  tearing 
away  his  garment,  and  leaving  a  long  gash  in  his  flesh,  from  neck  to 


A  DEPARTURE.  49 

elbow.  But  the  sword-cut  had  told,  and  a  second  blow,  aimed  with 
cool  precision,  bit  deeply  into  the  neck  of  the  tiger,  almost  severing 
the  head  from  the  body.  Tiie  spinal  cord  was  cut,  and  the  combat 
was  over. 

All  this  passed  in  a  few,  short  minutes,  Ilyland  stood  erect  and 
panting,  wondering  where  the  warm  blood  tlmt  trickled  into  his 
hand,  still  grasping  the  tulwar,  came  from.  jNIiss  Alordaunt  was 
indulging  in  a  tit  of  genuine  hysterics,  supported  by  Daltman,  who 
■was  assuring  her  of  present  safety.  Zeba  lay  prone  upon  the  ground, 
torn  and  senseless,  his  white  turban  mottled  with  a  dull  crimson,  and 
with  streaming  wounds  in  breast  and  arms.  ^Ir.  Glendare  was 
bending  over  the  Hindoo.  The  tiger  was  stretched  out  in  hideous 
magnificence  at  Hyland's  feet,  and  Haidee,  who  had  not  moved,  gazed 
alternately  at  the  various  groups,  but  M'atching  most  intently  the 
central  figure,  with  the  long,  red  stain  on  his  right  arm,  the  flush 
of  battle  on  his  cheek  and  brow,  and  the  look  of  dauntless  valour  in 
Ills  blazing  eyes. 

"  Oh,  how  beautiful !"  she  whispered.  "  The  knight !  the  gallant 
knight !     Sir  Hyland  evermore  !" 

This  was  not  the  usual  method  of  conferring  knighthood  ;  never- 
theless, Haidee  never  withdrew  the  title.  It  was  better  than  the 
accolade. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A  Departure. 

TT  was  not  very  remarkable  that  this  romantic  young  lady  should 
-*-  heartily  admire  the  prowess  of  Hyland.  She  was  deeply  read 
in  works  of  fiction,  and  finding  very  few  living  impersonations  of  her 
various  heroes,  she  naturally  yielded  her  admiration  at  the  first  ex- 
ample of  pure  mnnhood  she  had  seen.  She  had  overheard  the  brief 
colloquy  between  Rayneford  and  Daltman.  The  latter  had  earned 
her  displeasure  by  sundry  former  exhibitions  of  non-romantic  sel- 
fishness, and  she  felt  her  neuralgic  cheek  glow  with  sympathy  at 
Hyland's  prompt  rejection  of  his  proposal  to  sacrifice  the  native. 
She  had  been  incredulous  as  to  the  proximity  of  the  dangerous  brute, 
until  she  saw  his  body  in  the  air,  and  then  his  bulk,  in  her  eyes, 
rivalled  that  of  an  elepliant.  Between  his  first  leap  and  the  last 
sweep  of  the  tulwar  there  seemed  to  be  only  a  transient  instiuit  of 

4 


50  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE, 

time,  and  there  stood  the  victor,  weapon  in  hand,  and  more  than  a 
match  for  a  dozen  tigers,  in  Haidee's  estimation. 

"  Sir  Hyland,"  she  murmured  to  herself,  "  not  of  tlie  couchant 
leopard,  but  of  the  bounding  tiger!  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  paint 
his  shield !" 

But  Haidee  had  j!  common-sense,  practical  side  to  her  character, 
and  while  the  animal  was  still  quivering  in  death-agony,  she  ap- 
proached and  touched  Hyland's  arm. 

"  Let  me  bind  up  your  arm,"  she  said. 

"  My  arm  ?"  said  Hyland,  startled.  "  Why,  yes !  it  is  scratched. 
I  did  not  know  it.  Thank  you !  That  will  do,  I  think.  Your 
handkerchief  will  be  utterly  ruined." 

"No,  that  won't  do,  I  think,"  responded  Haidee,  quietly.  " I  want 
another  handkerchief.     I'll  get  Juliet's." 

"  Xo  need.  Here  is  mine.  You  are  brave  to  come  so  near  the 
tiger.     But  he  is  no  longer  dangerous." 

"  You  went  nearer !"  she  answered,  glancing  at  him,  while  she 
drew  the  knots  in  the  handkerchief;  "  besides,  you  have  your  sword !" 

"What  glorious  eyes  the  little  skinny  creature  has!"  thought  Hy- 
land ;  and  then  aloud,  "  Miss  Mordaunt,  I  am  very  grateful.  My 
arm  is  nearly  cured  already." 

"It  is  a  dreadful  wound !"  replied  Haidee;  "the  doctor  will  have 
to  sew  it  up  !  See  how  the  blood  comes  through  !  How  could  you 
strike  that  terrible  blow  with  this  arm  ?" 

"He  must  have  scratched  me  when  I  gave  him  the  first  cut,  but 
I  did  not  know  it.  Poor  Zeba!  Let  us  look  after  him.  He  taught 
me  the  trick  of  the  tulwar.  A  downright  blow  and  a  cut.  Is  Zeba 
badly  hurt,  Mr.  Glendare?" 

"  Very  much  torn  in  the  breast  and  neck.  The  scalp  is  torn 
from  the  side  of  his  head.     How  shall  we  get  him  to  the  station  ?" 

"Do  you  and  Daltman  take  the  ladies,  and  send  a  palanquin. 
I  will  stay  with  him.  Suppose  we  bind  up  some  of  these  wounds 
first?  Tear  strips  from  his  turban.  Thank  you.  Miss  Mordaunt, 
we  can  attend  to  him.  How  magnificent  he  looked  as  he  stood  here 
facing  that  wild  beast !     Did  you  see  liim  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Glendare.     "  I  saw  you  as  well." 

Miss  Mordaunt  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  walk.  Daltman 
reloaded  the  Hindoo's  gun  and  gave  it  to  Mr.  Glendare. 

"  We  will  send  help  to  you  within  an  hour,"  he  said,  as  they  pre- 
pared to  separate.  "As  we  have  the  ladies  to  protect,  perhaps  you 
liad  better  give  me  the  sword." 


.1   DEPARTURE.  51 

"Certainly,"  said  Ilylaml;  "take  it." 

"  And  do  you  intend  to  leave  Mr.  Rayneford  totally  unarmed?" 
said  Iluiilee,  lookint;  alternatoly  at  Daltnian  and  the  nu.ssionary. 

"The  only  important  matter  is  to  get  yon  to  the  bungalow,"  re- 
plied Daltnian.  "I  apprehend  no  danger,  but  you  ladies  will  feel 
more  secure  if  we  are  both  provided  with  weapons." 

"  Xo  need  for  controversy,"  said  Mr.  Glendare.  "The  colonel 
has  sent  your  dandies.  There  they  come.  If  you  can  walk,  Miss 
Haidee,  we  will  get  Zeba  home  in  your  dandy." 

A  dandy  is  simply  a  long  pole  with  a  strip  of  carpet  or  canvas  in 
the  middle,  Avhich  is  hooked  up  at  the  ends.  The  rider  sits  in  the 
loop  of  the  carpet,  grasps  the  pole,  which  is  lifted  to  the  shoulders 
of  the  bearers,  and  they  travel  sideways,  at  his  ease.  Colonel 
^lordaunt  had  grown  weary  at  the  prolonged  absence  of  his  daugh- 
ters, and  had  sent  the  dandies  to  meet  them  and  hasten  their 
return.  Zeba  was  carefully  lifted  from  the  ground,  and,  supported 
by  ^Ir.  Glendare  and  Daltnian,  was  strapped  in  the  dandy.  In 
a  few  minutes  the  party  was  passing  the  jungle  on  the  homeward 
march. 

"  I  had  no  thought  of  deserting  you,  Mr.  Rayneford,"  observed 
Mr.  Glendare,  as  they  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  the  jungle. 
"  My  purpose  was  to  escort  the  ladies  to  this  point,  and  then  return 
to  you." 

Haidee,  who  was  walking  by  the  side  of  Juliet's  dandy,  threw 
back  an  approving  glance  to  the  missionary.  Mr.  Glendare  nodded 
in  reply. 

*'  What  eloquent  eyes  the  child  has!"  he  said. 

"  She  is  a  little  heroine,"  whispered  Hyland.  "  What  in  the  world 
is  her  head  tied  up  in  that  absurd  fashion  for?" 

"  She  is  a  martyr  to  neuralgia,"  answered  the  missionary,  in  the 
same  tone.  "Doctor  Leigh  has  been  treating  her  ever  since  she  left 
Calcutta.  He  does  not  allow  her  to  remove  her  bandages  upon  any 
pretext." 

"  Her  sister  might  walk  a  little,  and  let  her  ride,"  muttered 
Hyland.     "She  seems  quite  recovered." 

Miss  Juliet  was  chatting  very  gayly  with  Daltraan,  who  walked 
by  the  side  of  her  dandy. 

"  I  suppose  that  does  not  occur  to  either  of  them,"  observed  Mr. 
Glendare.     "Certainly  not  to  Haidee." 

"  They  do  not  seem  to  resemble  each  other,"  said  Hyland,  after  a 
pause  in  the  conversation. 


52  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  No ;  I  am  not  sure  tliat  I  am  only  retailing  camp  gossip  when  I 
tell  you,  confidentially,  they  are  not  related." 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  said  Hyland. 

"  It  is  said  that  one  of  them  is  only  the  adopted  daughter  of  the 
colonel.  A  brother  officer  was  killed  in  the  mutiny.  Colonel 
Mordaunt  adopted  the  child." 

"  The  younger?" 

"  I  am  not  sure.  Nobody  knows.  Nobody  ventures  to  ask. 
The  colonel's  whole  family  perished  horribly,  except  one  daughter. 
Frank  says  he  has  reason  to  know  that  Juliet  is  the  colonel's  own 
child.     But " 

"  But  what  ?"  said  Hyland  ;  "  pardon  me  if  I  should  not  ask." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  continued  the  missionary,  reluctantly,  "  that 
Frank  is  sometimes  rash  in  his  conclusions.  Still,  I  have  no  reason 
to  doubt  him  in  this  matter.  The  colonel  makes  no  difference  in 
his  treatment  of  them.     Hist !  Zeba  is  speaking !" 

At  a  sign  from  the  missionary  the  .bearers  stopped,  and  the 
Europeans  all  gathered  round  the  wounded  Hindoo,  who  was  mut- 
tering incoherently  in  his  native  tongue.  Mr.  Glendare  bent  his 
head  down  and  listened. 

"  He  is  talking  in  one  of  the  Punjaubic  dialects,"  said  Mr. 
Glendare;  "and  I  cannot  understand  him." 

Haidee  plucked  her  voluminous  bandage  from  one  ear  and  listened 
a  moment. 

"He  says  give  sword  and  scabbard  to  Sahib  Hyland,"  she  said. 
Zeba  muttered  a  few  more  words,  and  relapsed  into  insensibility. 

"  He  says  there  is  one  God,  and  Mohammed  is  his  Prophet," 
continued  Haidee,  "  and  he  has  fainted  again." 

The  march  was  resumed.  Haidee  adjusted  her  head-dress  and 
rejoined  her  sister. 

"  I  suppose  Frank  is  right,"  observed  Mr.  Glendare  ;  "  she  under- 
stands that  lingo.  The  adopted  daughter  came  from  the  western 
provinces,  where  the  natives  speak  the  purest  Pracrit." 

After  the  bungalow  was  reached  and  the  Hindoo's  wounds  had 
been  dressed.  Dr.  Leigh  examined  Hyland's  arm.  He  was  a  pep- 
pery old  army-surgeon,  w'ith  about  as  much  human  sympathy  as  a 
hyena. 

"  Humph  !"  he  said,  after  bathing  the  wounded  limb ;  "  it  is  quite 
possible,  Mr.  Rayneford,  that  you  will  have  to  draw  your  pretty 
pictures  wnth  your  left  hand  hereafter !" 

"  What  can  you  mean,  doctor?"  said  Hyland,  aghast. 


.1   DEPARTURE.  53 

"  Fever,  Inflammation.  Nerves  lacerated.  Mortification.  How 
the  devil  can  I  tell?     Yon  are  cut  to  the  bone." 

"  And  Zeba?"  said  Hyland,  reprcssin*;  a  groan. 

"  If  he  were  white  he  woukl  be  dead  already,"  replied  the  medico. 
"One  c:\nnevertell  abont  these  natives.  One  eye  is  gone.  That 
mnch  is  certain.     And  1  think  I'll  take  off  one  arm  to-morrow." 

The  grisly  anticipation  put  the  doctor  in  a  good  humour. 

"  If  you  keep  perfectly  quiet — stay  out  of  the  sun — stay  in  the 
bungalow  a  week,  and  don't  use  your  arm  at  all,  I'll — I'll  try  to  save 
it.  There  is  some  poison  in  the  beast's  claws.  I  have  healed  up  far 
■worse  sword-cuts,  but  this  is  torn  and  ragged.  Kemember  what  I 
tell  you  !  Every  movement  of  your  body  irritates  the  wound.  And 
the  hot  weather  i«^  against  you." 

'*  I  will  obey  all  your  orders,  doctor,"  replied  Hyland,  submissively. 

"Very  well.  If  you  get  feverish,  I'll  strap  your  other  arm  to 
your  body,  to  keep  you  from  clawing  at  the  bandages.  You  had 
better  go  to  bed  at  once." 

"  I  have  had  nothing  to  eat,"  murmured  Hyland. 

"  Eat !"  said  the  doctor,  in  disgust.  "  Eat !  Who  ever  heard  of 
a  man  eating  with  one  foot  in  the  grave — one  arm,  at  least !  I  sup- 
pose you  would  like  a  bottle  of  pale  ale?" 

"  Indeed  that  is  true,  doctor." 

"  Plain  tea  morning  and  evening,"  replied  the  doctor,  dogmatic- 
ally ;  "  a  little  boiled  rice  at  noon.  No  meat  and  no  beer  for  a 
week.     Get  away  with  you  !     I  must  get  the  native  to  his  quarters." 

Haidee  had  an  ayah,  a  shrivelled,  old,  saffron-coloured  woman,  with 
an  unlimited  capacity  for  lying  and  sleeping.  She  indulged  in  cat- 
naps every  hour  of  the  twenty-four,  but  could  start  up,  broad  awake 
on  the  instant.  During  the  night  she  made  hourly  raids  into  Hy- 
land's  room,  (acting  under  stringent  orders,)  and  made  rapid,  cursory 
addresses  in  Hindoostanee  to  Hyland's  native  servant,  squatted  at 
the  foot  of  his  couch,  and  pretending  to  keep  the  punka  in  motion. 
The  youth  slept  through  it  all.  This  pastime  was  continued  several 
days  and  nights  in  succession,  until  at  last  the  tyrannical  doctor 
allowed  him  to  walk  out  after  nightfall  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  and 
increased  his  rations.  The  arm  healed  rapidly,  leaving  a  long,  red 
seam,  and  in  two  weeks  he  was  taken  off  the  sick  list  and  restored 
to  liberty. 

Before  Zeba,  minus  one  eye  and  one  arm,  crawled  into  the  sun- 
light, ^Ir.  Rayneford  was  ordered  to  the  Himalaya  Mountains. 
The  government  had  sent  a  corps  of  botanists,  geologists,  and  sur- 


5i  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

veyors  to  this  locality,  and  Hyland,  following  in  the  trail  of  a  body 
of  pilgrims,  bound  for  the  temple  of  Bhagaritha,  set  out  from  the 
shades  of  Nuttagur  to  prospect  and  report  upon  the  cinchona  plan- 
tations just  begun  under  the  auspices  of  John  Company. 


CHAPTER   X. 
Haidee. 

A  GREAT  part  of  the  magnificent  country,  where  the  Ganges 
issues  from  the  Himalayan  range,  was  totally  unknown  to 
Europeans  at  the  date  of  this  history.  It  liad  been  discovered  that 
the  cinchona-tree,  hitherto  confined  to  the  slopes  of  tlie  Andes,  would 
grow,  at  similar  altitude,  in  Xorthern  India,  and  the  chief  object  of 
the  expedition  with  which  Hyland  was  connected  was  to  explore  tliese 
regions,  report  upon  the  fauna  and  flora,  and  make  such  topograph- 
ical surveys  as  might  be  necessary.  The  belt  of  land  upon  which 
the  cinchona  was  found  to  flourish  varied  in  all  particulars,  except 
in  its  elevation  above  the  sea  level.  It  is  said  that  trees  above  and 
below  this  narrow  belt  preserve  the  same  exterior  appearance,  while 
their  bark  yields  only  a  meagre  percentage  of  quinine.  But  the 
experiments  on  the  slopes  of  the  Himalayas  had  been  very  encour- 
aging, and  the  true  bark,  apparently  identical  M'ith  the  Calisaya,  had 
been  successfully  cultivated  and  tested  by  government  agents,  and 
found  to  be  rich  in  the  active  principle  of  the  Peruvian  tree. 

Among  the  new  acquaintances  that  Hyland  made  there  was  a 
Doctor  Connor,  a  native  of  New  York,  but  a  traveller  of  such  enor- 
mous experience  that  all  parts  of  the  habitable  globe  seemed  equally 
familiar  to  him.  He  had  spent  a  series  of  years  in  South  America 
in  the  employment  of  the  English  "  monopoly,"  as  it  was  called — 
a  company  of  capitalists  who  had  contracted  for  all  the  bark  of  the 
cinchona-trees  in  the  countries  that  produced  them.  He  was  so 
true  an  expert,  that  he  could  distinguish  at  a  glance  between  the  real 
and  the  "bastard"  bark,  and  could  announce  beforehand  the  percent- 
age of  quinine  that  would  be  given  by  any  selected  specimen.  His 
faith  in  the  medicinal  virtue  of  the  drug  was  nearly  boundless,  and 
he  had  a  multitude  of  carefully  attested  examples  of  marvellous 
cases  in  which  quinine  had  rescued  the  victims  of  various  diseases 
from  the  very  jaws  of  death.      There  was  something  irresistibly 


HAIDEE.  65 

comic  in  his  furious  onslaughts  upon  "quaclccry"  in  all  its  forms, 
connled  with  his  enthusiastic  faith  in  his  favourite  remedial  ajjjent. 

llyhuul  w;us  attraeted  to  the  tloetor  iVom  the  first.  As  lu;  had 
wandered  all  over  the  face  of  the  eiu*th,  having  a  smattering  of  all 
known  languages,  his  repertoire  was  fdled  with  bits  of  personal  ad- 
venture, mingleil  with  much  valuable  historical  fact ;  and  so  long  as 
the  sovereign  virtues  of  "quinia"  were  not  contested,  the  doctor  was 
an  eminently  plciusant  companion.  It  happened  that  there  were  no 
other  educated  men  in  the  party,  and  Doctor  Connor  and  Mr. 
Ilayneford  naturally  sought  each  other's  society. 

Before  the  party  reached  the  mountains,  the  Bhagaritha  pilgrims 
left  them.  The  surveys  were  to  be  made  at  Bhootra,  and  here  they 
found  a  populous  station,  where  the  various  scientists  above  mentioned 
had  preceded  them.  There  was  a  vast  extent  of  country  between 
Nuttagur  and  Hyland's  new  field,  and  the  adventures  of  the  Nutta- 
gur  station  were  soon  forgotten  in  the  constant  round  of  duties  en- 
grossing his  attention  at  Bhootra.  Nevertheless,  there  came  a  letter 
from  Hyland  to  Mr.  Glendare  a  few  months  after  the  separation. 

"  I  M'ish  you  were  up  here  in  this  grand  climate  !"  he  wrote.  "  We 
thought  the  hills  at  Nuttagur  were  a  great  improv^ement  upon  Cal- 
cutta. But  what  do  you  say  to  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  sea 
level?  I  have  been  to  that  altitude  more  than  once.  At  present 
we  are  only  a  paltry  two  thousand  feet  high,  and  ray  surveys  will 
not  go  much  higher.  The  Bhagaritha  ])ilgrims,  who  left  us  several 
days  before  we  reached  Bhootra,  seek  their  shrine  ten  thousand  feet 
up — somewhere  in  the  course  or  near  the  source  of  their  sacred  river. 

"  I  am  very  much  interested  in  the  cinchona  plantations.  They 
are  undoubtedly  flourishing,  and  Doctor  Connor,  our  chief  botanist, 
pronounces  them  genuine.  By-the-bye,  I  must  tell  you  more  about 
my  new  friend.  He  is  an  American,  but  has  lived  everywhere, 
talks  no  end  of  Hugos,  and  is  a  skilful  physician.  I  have  witnessed 
some  remarkable  cures  under  his  treatment.  He  is  sane  upon  all 
subjects,  except  the  curative  powers  of  quinia.  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  much  he  claims  for  his  favourite  drug,  but  the  other  medicos 
up  here  assert  the  fact  that  its  exhibition  in  several  cases  (where  he 
has  certainly  been  successful)  is  something  new  in  medical  lore.  He 
does  not  call  it  a  panacea,  but  he  says  this  much  with  great  confi- 
dence and  emphasis  :  all  diseases  that  are  intermittent  yield  to  it, 
properly  administered.  And  he  specially  enumerated  neuralgia 
among  these  ailments.  This  attracted  my  attention  ])articularly,  as 
the  little  lady  with  the  big  eyes  is  a  martyr  to  that  disease.     Just 


56  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

think  of  it !  I  actually  never  saw  Miss  Haidee,  during  all  my  stay 
at  Nuttagur,  when  her  head  was  not  swathed  up  in  bandages !  And 
my  sympathy  for  the  child  made  me  specially  attentive  to  Doctor 
Connor's  remarks,  and  I  made  a  memorandum  of  them,  which  I 
enclose. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  indecorous  in  me  to  meddle,  but  I  cannot  help  it 
if  it  is.  I  would  incur  more  serious  risks  in  such  a  cause.  Pray 
see  Doctor  Leigh,  and  put  the  matter  before  him.  And  do  it  judi- 
ciously, my  dear  friend.  These  medical  men  do  not  cut  each  other's 
throats  only  because  they  slake  their  appetites  on  such  fellows  as  you 
and  me,  but  they  are  terribly  jealous  of  each  other !  I  wish  you  could 
read  it  to  the  doctor  out  of  some  medical  book  ! 

"  Be  judicious,  I  pray  you.  Do  not  arouse  the  latent  antagonism. 
For  if  Doctor  Leigh  should  say  '  no,'  all  my  high  hopes  and  expec- 
tations would  be  dashed.  The  colonel  would  not  allow  any  experi- 
ments, of  course.  Apropos  of  experiments !  I  spent  two  days  at 
the  snow-line,  three  weeks  ago,  and  I  had  a  dull  headache  at  noon, 
three  successive  days,  after  we  came  down.  Doctor  Connor  gave  me 
the  horrible  stuif — only  once — twenty-four  grains  !  In  three  instal- 
ments, three  hours  apart,  and  I  have,  had  no  headache  since.  I 
cannot  say  a  word  in  praise  of  the  taste  of  quinia.  Neither  can  I 
eulogise  the  sensations  that  follow  its  administration.  My  head  felt 
too  big  to  go  into  an  ordinary  barrel  for  three  or  four  hours.  But 
no  headache  came  with  the  next  noon,  my  friend  !     I  was  cured ! 

"  I  am  so  thorough  a  convert  to  Dr.  Connor's  theory,  that  I  should 
not  hesitate  to  administer  his  drug  to  my  sister  or  daughter,  if  I  had 
either,  a  victim  to  neuralgia.  Especially,  as  the  doctors,  differing 
about  every  other  point,  agree  in  pronouncing  quinia  innocuous  at 
least." 

Mr.  Glendare  received  this  letter  at  high  noon,  when  the  chief 
personages  introduced  in  a  previous  chapter  were  at  tiffin  in  the 
colonel's  bungalow. 

"  From  Rayueford  !"  he  exclaimed,  when  he  had  broken  the  seal. 

"  Read  it  aloud,"  said  a  chorus  of  voices. 

Mr.  Glendare  glanced  over  the  letter,  and  then  read  the  quotation 
given  above.     The  comments  that  followed  were  highly  instructive. 

"Humbug!"  said  Doctor  Leigh.  " There  are  no  specifics.  Yan- 
kee quack  probably,  maker  of  patent  pills.  How  the  deuce  can  he 
prescribe  for  a  case  he  never  saw  ?" 

"  Rayneford  is  sold  !"  said  Daltman  ;  "  never  saw  such  a  fellow ! 
Ready  to  run  off  with  any  new  dodge  that  comes  up." 


UAIDEE.  57 

"A  tiger  dodge,  for  instance,"  niurnmrcd  Miss  Haidee,  who  was 
sipping  pale  ale,  and  nuineliing  a  bi.scuit  with  aching  jaws.  No- 
body seemed  to  hear  her  remark. 

"  Very  thoughtful  in  Rayneford,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  "  and  I 
think  Frank's  remark  very  unjust.  Rayneford  is  the  most  con- 
servative man  1  know." 

"  Not  very  conservative,  to  suggest  wholesale  poisoning  of  my 
patients!     Sorry  I  did  not  take  his  arm  off!"  said  Doctor  licigh. 

Mr.  Cilendare  folded  his  letter  and  ])ut  it  in  his  pocket.  This 
was  clearly  not  the  time  to  argue  with  Doctor  Leigh,  llaidee  sat 
next  the  missionary,  taking  her  ale,  a  gulp  at  a  time.  It  was  a  part 
of  Dr.  Leigh's  "  treatment."  When  the  rest  left  the  table,  and 
strolled  out  on  the  verandah,  she  remained  at  the  table,  meditating. 
At  last  the  ale  was  finished,  and  as  she  arose  she  saw  the  slip  of 
paper,  which  Mr.  Glendare  had  dropped  from  the  letter.  She  took 
it  up  and  read  ivs  follows : 

"  If  there  is  an  intermission  of  pain  from  three  to  six  hours,  the 
patient  should  take  from  twelve  to  twenty-four  grains  of  the  sul- 
phate of  quinia  within  the  interval.  It  is  better  to  take  enough  at 
once,  and  the  patient  can  tell  when  he  has  enough,  whicli  will  be 
when  he  hears  a  thousand  hornets  buzzing  in  his  head.  Some- 
times, and  with  some  constitutions,  twelve  grains  will  do.  I  have 
no  confidence  in  smaller  quantities." 

"  Ah !  this  is  Sir  Hyland's  memorandum  I"  said  she,  replacing 
the  paj)er  by  Mr.  Glendare's  ])late.  "  So  he  remembers  the  '  poor 
child'  with  her  head  swathed  in  muslin !  And  lie  has  written  that 
letter,  and  sent  it  five  hundred  miles,  I  suppose,  at  least,  because  he 
sympathises  with  the  '  little  lady  with  big  eyes !'  And  Doctor  Leigh 
says  he  is  a  humbug !  Very  well,  then !  I'll  see  if  I  cannot 
humbug  him  !" 

Adjoining  the  colonel's  bungalow  Doctor  Leigh  had  his  labora- 
tory. It  was  a  small  room,  filled  with  villainous  smells.  But 
Haidee  was  familiar  with  all  its  nooks  and  crannies,  for  she  was 
a  volunteer  nurse  and  hospital  stewardess,  chiefly  because  she  could 
understand  the  natives,  who  always  talked  Hindoostanee  when  af- 
flicted with  febrile  diseases.  Quinia  was  also  a  favourite  remedy 
with  Doctor  Leigh,  and  he  had  jirivately  made  up  his  mind  to  try 
its  efficacy  upon  Haidee  while  Glendare  was  reading  Hyland's  letter. 
He  meant  to  give  her  two  or  three  grains  and  watch  the  results. 

But  she — poor  slip  of  a  child — aged  eighteen,  and  full  of  woman's 
wit,  and  woman's  relentless  determination,  walked  softly  into  the 


58  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

doctor's  laboratory,  while  he  was  puffing  at  his  cheroot  on  the  broad 
verandah.  She  knew  as  well  as  he  where  he  stored  his  treasures, 
and  in  less  than  eight  minutes  she  had  weighed  three  times  eight 
grains  of  sulphate  of  quinia,  and  deftly  folded  the  three  powders 
and  stowed  them  aAvay  in  her  pocket. 

"  I  have  no  pain  from  eight  o'clock  to  bedtime,"  she  reflected, 
"and  I  intend  to  take  these  powders  at  nine,  ten,  and  eleven.  I 
suppose  I  cannot  read  '  The  King's  Secret'  to-night,  but  I  can  wait 
until  to-morrow.  Besides,  I  have  read  it  twice  already.  And  I'll 
tell  nobody  about  it.  Does  Sir  Hyland  suppose  the  poor  little  child 
■would  be  snubbed  by  old  Doctor  Leigh  ?  Child  !  I  vow  I  think 
men  are  the  greatest  geese — not  Sir  Hyland  though.  Never 
mind !" 

Haidee's  ayah  jerked  fitfully  at  the  punka  cord  between  naps,  at 
about  nine  o'clock  that  evening.  Haidee  emptied  one  powder  in 
a  cu])ful  of  ale  and  drank  it.  The  facial  contortions  that  followed 
would  have  made  the  fortune  of  a  circus  clown,  but  she  bravely 
clenched  her  fist  and  refrained  from  expletives.  When  ten  o'clock 
came,  she  repeated  the  dose.  It  is  a  wonder  she  did  not  swear  in 
Hindoostanee,  but  she  did  not.  Before  eleven  o'clock  she  distinctly 
heard  sixty-five  thousand  hornets,  and  while  their  music  was  at  its 
height,  she  quietly  disrobed  and  sought  her  couch. 

The  next  day  Haidee  informed  Doctor  Leigh  that  she  was  quite 
free  from  pain.  Might  she  leave  off  her  head-wraps?  By  no 
means !  Another  day  passed,  and  still  no  neuralgia.  She  ate  four 
mutton-chops,  while  the  doctor  stared  at  her  speechless.  That 
evening  her  pretty  face  appeared  at  the  dinner-table  uncovered. 
She  was  still  carnivorous. 

"  Quinia  be  blowed !"  said  Dr.  Leigh  to  Mr.  Glendare,  in  a  whis- 
per ;  "  notice  the  quantity  of  grub  that  child  is  consuming !  "When 
you  write  to  Mr.  Rayneford,  tell  him  we  have  managed  to  cure  the 
child  without  using  his  Yankee  humbug!  Haidee!  Will  you  try 
the  quinia  ?" 

"  I  think  I  prefer  another  slice  of  mutton,  doctor,"  she  answered, 
"  thank  you !" 


THE  SOLDIERS.  69 

CHAPTER    XL 

The  Soldiers. 

AS  a  coincidence,  it  may  be  noted  that  Islv.  Supercargo  Miles  was 
disposing  of  quiniaat  a  huge  profit  in  Charleston,  at  the  very 
time  Hyland  was  starting  for  the  cinchona  plantations.  Tiie  cargo 
of  the  ''Nellie"  was  well  assorted,  and,  acting  under  the  general 
instructions  of  the  shipper,  the  supercargo  sold  his  wares  rapidly. 
The  new  crop  of  cotton  was  just  appeiiring  upon  the  market  when 
the  "  Nellie's"  hold  was  emptied.  But  there  had  been  some  cases  of 
yellow  fever,  and  the  disease  was  spreading.  By  the  urgent  advice 
of  his  brokers  and  bankers,  Mr.  Miles  took  a  trip  into  the  interior, 
with  the  understanding  that  he  would  prolong  his  absence  until  a 
decided  frost  should  have  driven  out  the  dreaded  scourge  of  the 
coast.  He  yielded  to  this  arrangement  the  more  readily  because  the 
blockade  was  for  more  efficient  than  usual ;  and  even  if  he  could 
have  completed  his  loading,  he  could  not  have  ventured  over  the  bar. 
He  spent  a  week  at  a  pleasant  village,  less  than  a  hundred  miles 
inland.  Here  the  talk  was  all  of  the  army.  Every  voice  was  still 
for  war.  The  larger  part  of  the  population  belonged  to  the  gentler 
sex,  the  men  being  all  afield,  excepting  those  whose  age  disqualified 
them  for  military  service.  The  items  of  news  were  gathered  from 
the  city  papers,  and  Miles  was  surprised  to  find  the  women,  of  all 
ages  and  conditions,  as  belligerent  as  the  hero  of  the  old  ballad: 

"  La  guerre  ost  ma  patrie, 
Mon  harnais  ma  maison, 
Et  en  tout  saison, 
Combattre  c'est  ma  vie." 

With  his  limited  knowledge  of  political  questions,  and  with  his 
inevitable  English  prejudice,  Miles  could  not  discover  any  satisfac- 
tory reason  for  this  strange  unanimity.  But  he  learned  very  speedily 
to  moderate  his  own  expressions,  and  to  withhold  any  hint  that  the 
"  invader"  could  possibly  have  some  show  of  right  on  his  side. 
Curious  to  investigate  the  masculine  modes  of  thought,  he  gradually 
extended  his  travels  inland,  always  approaching  rtie  scenes  of  actual 
conflict,  until  he  found  himself  within  an  easy  day's  ride  of  a  pros- 
jwctive  battle-field.  "  The  fighting  instinct"  distinguishing  all 
bipeds,  from  the  cock-sparrow  up  to  man,  was  too  much  for  his  pru- 
dence, and  gathering  all  the  information  respecting  routes  that  was 


60  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

attainable,  he  crossed  the  Tennessee  border  one  morning,  and  started 
in  search  of  a  camp  of  ten  thousand  Confederate  soldiers,  somewhere 
between  him  and  sunset. 

The  Charleston  bankers  had  furnished  him  with  letters — some 
were  circulars  addressed  to  various  moneyed  institutions  in  the  in- 
terior towns,  and  some  to  prominent  army-officers  in  Tennessee  and 
Virginia.  Late  in  th^  afternoon  he  was  pacing  soberly  along  the 
dusty  highroad,  when  he  Avas  suddenly  confronted  by  an  armed  man, 
who  emerged  from  the  bushes  on  the  roadside. 

He  w'as  a  tall,  raw-boned  specimen  of  the  genus  homo,  clad  in 
grey  trousers  and  grey  flannel  shirt,  a  cartridge-box  strapped  to  his 
waist,  a  long  knife  in  his  belt,  and  a  Minie  rifle  in  his  hands,  the 
bright  bayonet  glittering  at  the  end  of  the  barrel,  depressed  to  the 
line  of  Miles's  body. 

"  Halt,  there !"  he  said,  passing  his  thumb  to  the  gun-cock. 
Miles  drew  up  his  horse. 

"  Who  air  you  ?     AVhere  air  you  goin'  ?"  said  the  soldier. 

"I  am  an  Englishman,"  answered  Miles,  "and  I  am  looking  for 
General  Smith." 

"  Hum  !"  said  the  soldier,  doubtfully.     "Got  any  despatches?" 

"  I  have  a  letter  for  General  Smith." 

"  Got  any  we'pons  ?" 

"  None."- 

"  Well,"  drawled  the  soldier,  "  I  reckon  you  can  ride  on.  "Walk 
your  horse.  If  you  go  too  fast,  a  Minie  ball  will  be  derned  apt 
to  kitch  up  with  you !"  And  he  tapped  the  butt  of  his  weapon 
as  he  raised  it  to  a  "shoulder  arms,"  and  straggled  back  to  the 
bushes. 

A  few  minutes  later.  Miles  was  again  challenged  by  the  apparent 
twin  brother  of  the  first  soldier.  A  similar  interchange  of  views 
took  place,  and  while  the  second  sentinel  pondered.  Miles  concluded 
to  propound  some  questions  on  his  own  account. 

"  It  seems  I  am  approaching  the  camp,"  he  said.  "  Can  you  tell 
me,  my  friend,  if  I  shall  find  General  Smith  ?" 

"  Our  old  man  is  Gen'l  Smith,"  answered  the  warrior. 

"  And  are  you  a  member  of  his  corps  ?" 

"  I  belong  to  th^  Forty-ninth  North  Kalliney  Infantry,"  replied 
the.  soldier,  with  dignity ;  "  and  if  you  call  me  '  Tar-heel,'  I'll  be 
dogon'd  if  I  don't  mash  your  mouth  !" 

"  Call  you  '  Tar-heel'  ?"  said  Miles.  "  Certainly  not !  I  do  not 
even  know  what  it  means." 


THE  SOLDIERS.  61 

"  I  forgot  you  was  a  Britisher,"  replied  the  other.  ^  "  Say  !  do  all 
Britishers  wear  plug-hats  and  gloves  in  hot  weather?" 

"Not  all,  I  fancy,"  said  Miles.  "What  road  shall  I  take  to 
reach  the  camp?" 

"  Better  climb  down  onten  your  saddle,  I  reckon,"  said  the  soldier, 
coolly.  "  You  can  lead  your  cattle.  Is  Queen  Victory  a-goin'  to 
jine  us  ag'in  the  Yanks?" 

"  I  really  cannot  say,"  replied  Miles,  glancing  at  the  sober  face  of 
his  interlocutor,  wondering  if  the  question  was  seriously  propounded. 
"  So !  I  am  afoot,  you  see.     And  now,  which  way  ?" 

"Kight  down  the  road.  It  ain't  no  ways  from  here.  You'll 
come  to  the  school-house  at  the  head  of  the  road.  Plenty  of  fellows 
thar  to  p'int  your  way  out.  Say,  Britisher,  you'd  better  come  outen 
that  hat  afore  you  git  into  camp !     You  can  mount  ag'in,  if  you 

like !" 

»  As  W\\qs>  rode  along  he  took  off  the  objectionable  headgear,  and 
examined  it  narrowly  to  discover  its  special  faultiness.  It  was  a 
good  hat,  tolerably  new,  in  a  good  state  of  preservation,  and  cer- 
tainly in  the  latest  London  fashion.  Utterly  at  a  loss  to  account  for 
the  parting  advice  of  the  sentinel,  he  replaced  his  hat  as  he  turned 
the  bend  of  the  road,  when  the  "  school-house"  came  into  view. 
There  were  some  twenty  soldiers,  the  most  of  them  spread  out  upon 
the  grassy  mound,  some  playing  with  soiled  cards,  some  smoking 
pipes,  their  guns  stacked  near  the  building.  Half  a  dozen  horses, 
with  military  saddles  and  holsters,  were  fastened  to  the  low  boughs 
of  the  trees,  and  a  small  group  of  officers,  seated  on  the  rough  bench 
on  the  school-house  porch,  rose  as  he  approachal.  A  negro  boy, 
with  glittering  white  teeth,  took  his  bridle  when  he  dismounted. 
The  soldiers  united  in  a  chorus  of  murmurs,  as  he  passed  them — 

"  Come  outen  that  hat !" 

"  Good  afternoon,  gentlemen,"  said  the  supercargo,  removing  his 
hat,  as  the  officers  courteously  touched  their  caps ;  "  will  you  pardon 
a  stranger  if  I  enquire  what  the  deuce  ails  my  hat?" 

A  roar  of  laughter  from  the  officers  was  the  immediate  response, 
and  then  one  of  them,  offering  his  hand  to  the  new-comer,  motioned 
him  to  a  seat  on  the  bench. 

"  You  will  excuse  our  merriment,  sir,"  he  said,  "  but  your  coun- 
tenance showed  such  manifest  perplexity,  that  we  could  not  hcli)  it. 
It  is  nothing.  The  boys  don't  often  see  a  dress  hat,  and  they  must 
have  their  joke.  They  have  a  vague  idea  that  none  but  Yankees 
wear  them." 


62  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"And  they  take  me  for  a  Yankee?"  said  Miles. 

"  Hardly.  A  gentleman  of  that  nationality  would  not  be  likely  to 
come  to  these  headquarters — unattended.  You  passed  a  sentry  or 
two  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Miles ;  "  but  they  also  criticised  my  hat.  I  told 
them  I  had  a  letter  for  General  Smith,  and  they  allowed  me  to 
pass." 

"  Ah  !  I  am  he,  sir,"  said  the  officer. 

Miles  produced  his  credentials,  and  while  the  general  perused  the 
letter  he  glanced  at  the  strange  surroundings.  The  soldiers  had 
already  returned  to  their  amusements,  forgetting  the  stranger,  and 
intent  upon  their  cards  and  pipes.  The  boy  had  fastened  his  horse, 
removed  the  saddle,  and  was  busily  rubbing  the  animal  down  with 
a  handful  of  straw.  The  officers  were  variously  attired,  none  of 
them  having  a  regular  military  costume,  all  wearing  long  boots 
with  spui-s,  and  distinguished  from  the  rank  and  file  chiefly  by  theii' 
red  sashes  and  long  sabres.  Over  all  there  was  the  indescribable 
appearance  of  reality,  as  contradistinguished  from  the  trim  equip- 
ments of  holiday  soldiers. 

"  You  are  welcome,  Mr.  Miles,"  said  the  general,  as  he  finished 
the  letter.  "  Let  me  present  my  friends :  Major  Ilurd,  Captains 
Stanly  and  Green.     Mr.  Miles,  gentlemen,  from  England." 

The  officers  arose  and  greeted  the  new-comer. 

"My  correspondent  informs  me,"  said  the  general,  "that  you  are 
merely  taking  a  holiday  trip  through  the  country.  I  suppose  you 
know  you  are  quite  near  our  outer  lines  ?" 

"  I  heard  to-day  that  a  Federal  force  was  near,"  replied  Miles, 
"  but  I  do  not  know  how  near." 

"  Our  pickets  have  exchanged  compliments  this  afternoon,"  said 
the  general;  "we  shall  all  be  better  acquainted  with  our  visitors 
to-morrow.  May  I  offer  you  some  whiskey  ?  It  is  not  very  good, 
but  the  best  we  can  get." 

"  I  thank  you,  no.  If  you  gentlemen  will  join  me,  I  have  some 
cigars  in  my  wallet." 

"  It  would  be  absolutely  deceitful  in  us  to  refuse,"  observed  Major 
Hurd,  "  as  we  have  not  seen  a  real  cigar  for  a  month." 

While  they  smoked  the  two  captains  walked  apart  on  the  piazza 
engaged  in  earnest  discourse.  It  was  evident  that  the  Englishman's 
arrival  was  the  subject  under  discussion,  as  they  glanced  at  him  from 
time  to  time.  When  they  threw  away  the  stumps-  of  their  cigars, 
they  approached  and  unfolded  the  topic  of  the  colloquy. 


ANNOT.  G3 

"General,"  said  Captain  Stanly,  "  Green  and  I  liave  been  talking 
about  Mr.  Miles,  and  his  accommodation  for  the  night.  With  your 
permission  I  will  ride  over  to  Dale's,  where  he  can  get  an  eatable 
su|)per  and  a  bed." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  general ;  "  Mr.  Miles,  you  will  be  wel- 
come. Mr.  Dale  is  a  countryman  of  yours  by  birth.  We  cannot 
make  you  comfortable  here,  and  hospitality  is  best  shown  by  securing 
the  comfort  of  your  guest.  We  are  on  the  eve  of  battle,  and  must 
stiiy  with  our  men.  It  would  be  highly  indecorous  in  any  of  us  to 
sleep  under  the  roof  of  a  habitable  house  to-night." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  said  Miles.  "  Docs  Mr.  Dale  keep  a  house 
of  entertainment — an  inn?" 

"  There  are  no  inns  within  forty  miles  of  us,"  replied  Captain 
Stanly,  smiling;  "but  in  this  country  we  do  not  need  them.  Do 
not  hesitate  on  that  account,  however.  I  will  ensure  you  a  cordial 
welcome.  Tom,  saddle  the  gentleman's  horse,  and  bring  mine  also. 
General,  I  will  return  within  the  hour.  It  is  only  a  siiort  distance, 
Mr.  Miles." 

Miles  offered  no  further  objection,  but  mounting  his  tired  horse, 
dropped  a  silver  half-crown  into  the  black  palm  of  Tom,  whose 
eyes  grew  to  the  dimensions  of  the  coin,  as  he  looked  alternately  at 
its  shining  surface  and  at  the  retreating  form  of  the  donor.  Silver 
was  scarce  in  that  latitude. 


CHAPTER    XII. 
Annot. 


THE  level  rays  of  the  setting  sun  shone  in  the  faces  of  the  eques- 
trians as  they  rode  away  from  the  school-house.  They  were 
challenged  twice  by  sentinels  within  half  a  mile  of  the  camp,  but 
were  allowed  to  })rocee(l,  after  a  whispered  word  from  Captain  Stanly. 
Turning  from  the  main  road,  they  rode  a  mile  through  the  forest, 
and  when  they  emerged  from  the  shadow,  they  were  on  the  edge 
of  a  vast  cornfield,  separated  from  the  woodland  by  the  ordinary 
worm  fence,  with  which  Miles  had  grown  very  familiar  in  his  day's 
ride.  At  the  end  of  the  field  they  entered  a  lane,  bordered  by 
hedges  of  the  Osage  orange,  the  dwelling  of  Mr.  Dale  coming  into 
view  at  the  terminus  of  the  lane. 


64  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  This  hedge  looks  very  home-like  to  me,"  observed  Miles ;  "  it  is 
the  first  I  have  seen  in  America." 

"Yes.  Mr.  Dale  values  his  hedge  more  highly  than  his  house. 
He  has  cultivated  it  six  or  seven  years.  I  hope  the  track  of  the  ^var 
will  not  mar  this  neighbourhood,  but  one  can  never  tell." 

"  I  have  a  great  desire,"  said  the  Englishman,  with  some  hesita- 
tion, "to  see  a  battle.  If  it  would  be  proper,  I  should  like  to  ride 
back  to-morrow,  if  you  gentlemen  anticipate " 

"It  is  tolerably  certain,"  replied  the  soldier,  laughing,  "that  we 
shall  have  a  little  debate  to-morrow.  But  I  cannot  tell  you  just 
when  or  where.  You  cannot  see  much,  however,  without  incurring 
some  risk." 

"I  suppose  not,"  said  Miles,  coolly.  "The  only  question  re- 
lates to  the  propriety  in  the  case.  As  an  Englishman  and  non- 
combatant " 

"Oh,  there  will  be  plenty  of  'outsiders,'  as  we  call  them.  News- 
paper correspondents,  embryo  surgeons,  and  some  chaplains.  The 
latter  somehow  get  mixed  up  with  their  charges  though,  and  make 
first-class  fighters." 

"  Fighters  !"  said  Miles.     "Surely  you  do  not  mean  clergymen?" 

"  Certainly  !  Our  parson  is  a  long-legged  Scotch-Irishman  from 
North  Carolina,  and  he  has  done  a  man's  work  in  a  dozen  battles 
already.  He  never  allows  his  boys  to  go  into  action  without  a 
prayer  beforehand.  Come  over  in  the  morning,  and  I  will  intro- 
duce you.  Here  is  the  gate.  Allow  me  to  pass  you.  I  can  open 
the  latch  with  my  sabre." 

A  good-sized  wooden  house,  of  two  stories.  A  broad  verandah 
along  the  whole  front.  An  old  gentleman  shading  his  eyes  with  his 
hand,  watching  their  approach,  and  a  young  lady  at  his  side,  at  the 
top  step  of  the  verandah.  Climbing  plants  entwined  about  the  pil- 
lars, the  Virginia  creeper,  the  honeysuckle,  the  wistaria,  and  the 
jessamine.  Instead  of  the  trim  lawn,  there  were  numerous  flower- 
beds, wherever  the  trees,  which  stood  in  clumps,  would  allow  the 
sunlight  to  reach  the  earth. 

"That  is  she!"  said  Captain  Stanly,  in  a  half- whisper ;  "Miss 
Dale.  Ah  !  if  I  could  only  join  your  party  to-night,  instead  of 
prowling  about  in  the  woods,  catching  a  mouthful  of  sleep  where  I 

can,  and  smoking  corn-cob  pipes ! Your  servant,  Mr.  Dale ! 

Miss  Annot,  it  is  very  tantalizing  to  be  allowed  only  this  brief  greet- 
ing !  I  have  brought  you  a  visitor,  Mr.  Dale ;  a  countrj-man  of 
yours,  Avho  brings   letters   from    Charleston  to   the   general.     We 


ANNOT.  65 

have  ventured  to  ofTer  him  the  hospitalities  of  Dale  Manor  to-night, 
as  our  accoinuKMlatious  are  not  very  inviting.  Mr.  Miles,  sir.  Mr. 
Dale  and  Mi^^s  Dale." 

"You  are  welcome,  gentlemen,"  replied  Mr.  Dale,  descending  the 
steps,  with  his  hand  extended.  "Dismount.  Here,  Toby!  taUe  the 
hoi*ses." 

"  Alas !"  said  Stanly,  "  I  am  obliged  to  return  to  camp.  I  cannot 
even  dismount,  lint  I  hope  to  return  to-morrow  nigiit,  if — notiiing 
happens  in  the  meantime  to  prevent.  Good  afternoon.  Miss  Annot, 
please  do  not  sing  '  Annie  Laurie'  until  I  come  to  hear  it.  Good 
night,  Mr.  Miles." 

Mr.  Miles  mounted  the  verandah  steps  in  a  cold  per>pi ration.  A 
thousand  thoughts  rushed  over  his  mind,  and  always  uppermost,  the 
painful  sense  of  high  indecorum  of  which  he  was  guilty,  in  thrusting 
himself,  an  unbidden  guest,  uj)on  this  household.  He  looked  back 
at  Captain  Stanly,  cantering  down  the  lane,  and  half  resolved  to 
ride  after  him.  In  the  midst  of  his  confusion,  he  met  the  dark  eyes 
of  the  lady  as  she  advanced  and  offered  her  hand. 

"  Father  will  be  too  exacting  to  allow  much  music  to-night,  Mr. 
Miles.     It  was  very  kind  to  come.     Walk  in." 

"I  do  not  know  what  apology  to  offer.  Miss  Dale,"  stammered 
Miles.  "  You  know,  and  /know,  this  is  an  unwarrantable  intrusion. 
Yet  when  the  gentlemen  over  there  proposed  it,  there  seemed  to  be 
such  an  air  of  proprietorship  about  them  all,  that  I  was  too  stupid 
to  see  the  matter  in  its  true  light.  And  now,  if  you  will  allow 
me  to  ride  back,  after  a  short  visit,  I  will  be  very  grateful.  The 
moon " 

"  Must  have  exerted  an  evil  influence  upon  you  !"  said  ^Nlr.  Dale. 
"What!  Leave  us  to-night?  Ho,  ho  !  You  will  be  lucky  if  you 
are  allowed  to  go  to  bed.  Come  in,  sir !  The  house  is  yours.  You 
will  have  to  talk  incessantly  until  the  short  hours.  I  assure  you, 
your  visit  is  a  real  godsend  to  us,  and  you  have  a  thousand  welcomes. 
An  Englishman,  too!     Mr.  Miles,  he  said " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Miles,  "  that  is  the  name  I  bear.  But  I  cannot 
enter  a  countryman's  house  as  a  guest  under  false  colours.  Miles  is 
my  name,  but  not  my  patronymic.  Will  you  admit  me,  with  this 
much  of  an  explanation?  I  brought  a  cargo  from  our  country  to 
Charleston,  running  the  blockade,  and  I  left  the  half  of  my  name 
in  England." 

"  The  other  half  of  your  name  is  not  Brentam  ?"  said  Mr.  Dale, 
confidently. 

6 


66  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  No,"  answered  Miles,  startled  ;  "  certainly  not." 

"  Then  own  my  house !  Don't  you  know  how  those  Spanish  fel- 
lows do?  In  speaking  of  their  houses  they  always  add,  'which  is 
also  yours.'  In  their  case  it  is  only  surface  politeness.  In  my 
case  it  is  a  genuine  welcome.  Annot,  my  child,  Mr.  Miles  will  dine 
with  us;  none  of  your  suppers!  Toby!  Take  Mr.  Miles  to  the 
octagon  room  and  wait  upon  him.  The  more  entirely  you  feel  at 
home,  sir,  the  more  you  honour  me.     Here  is  the  staircase." 

Miles,  escorted  by  his  black  attendant,  ascended  the  stairs.  The 
octagon  room  was  over  the  verandah,  and  he  could  see  from  the 
window  the  end  of  the  hedge- bordered  lane  and  the  forest  beyond. 
Toby  danced  around  him,  plying  his  brush  and  removing  the  travel- 
stains  from  his  garments.  When  he  descended  to  the  lower  story, 
he  found  his  host  and  Miss  Dale  seated  in  the  drawing-room.  Din- 
ner was  announced  when  the  candles  were  brought  in,  and  the  visitor 
did  ample  justice  to  the  meal.  He  had  been  living  upon  cigar  smoke 
since  an  early  breakfast,  and  he  relinquished  his  knife  and  fork  with 
a  sigh,  after  an  hour's  steady  occupation. 

"  We  are  living  upon  our  own  resources,"  observed  Mr.  Dale,  "and 
wine  is  not  within  reach.     Milk  in  abundance,  however." 

"It  should  be  called  nectar,"  replied  Miles.  "Really,  I  am 
ashamed  of  my  voracious  appetite !  It  is  due  to  your  matchless 
climate,  Mr.  Dale.     Nothing  more,  I  thank  you." 

"  AVell,  let  us  go  on  the  verandah  and  smoke.  How  beautiful  the 
night  is !  Do  you  notice  the  chirp  of  night-birds  and  insects,  as 
different  from  those  that  we  hear  in  dear  old  England  ?" 

"  Dear  old  England  !"  echoed  his  daughter.  "  Shall  I  ever  see 
England  ?" 

"Annot  was  born  in  Charleston,"  explained  Mr.  Dale.  "She 
calls  herself  an  English  maiden,  though.  She  heard  a  singer  in 
New  York,  some  celebrated  tenor,  singing  '  The  Maids  of  Merry 
England.'  Go  sing  a  verse,  Annot.  Let  Mr.  Miles  be  pleasantly 
reminded  of  his  fair  countrywomen." 

She  obediently  passed  into  the  drawing-room,  and  presently,  after 
a  short  prelude.  Miles  heard  her  voice — a  grand  soprano — filling  the 
room  and  floating  out  into  the  night.  He  sat  entranced,  trying  to 
catch  the  meaning  of  the  words,  and  then  forgetting  them  for  the 
melody.  She  sang  two  stanzas,  and  while  he  still  dreamed  she 
glided  back  to  her  seat  by  her  father's  side. 

"  A  fine  song,"  said  Mr.  Dale. 

"  It  is  most  beautiful,"  said  Miles,  half  to  himself.     "  How  does 


A  KNOT.  G7 

it  happen  that  such  a  voice  is  buried  in  this  Western  wilderness? 
Exi'use  me,  Miss  Dale,  I  did  not  mean  to  say  that  in  your  hearing. 
Did  I  sav  wilderness?  This  is  a  veritable  paradise!  Since  I  landed 
I  have  not  encountered  many  attractions  to  wean  me  from  my  native 
land.  I  have  been  living  with  traders  and  rough  seamen,  intent  on 
monev-making — longing  for  Somerset " 

"  Somerset !''  s;\id  Mr.  Dale,  interrupting  him.  "  Do  you  come 
from  Somerset?" 

"  Yes." 

"  You  spoke  of  Glasgow  so  constantly  at  dinner  that  I  concluded 
you  a  Scot." 

"  I  sailed  from  Glasgow." 

"  Somerset !     Do  you  happen  to  know  Hawkley  ?" 

"  Y'es." 

There  was  a  half-hour  of  silence.  The  gentlemen  smoked.  Miss 
Dale  sat  patiently  waiting  for  the  conversation  to  be  resumed.  Her 
father  w:us  apjiarently  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts.  At  last  he 
turned  abruptly  to  Miles. 

"  Will  you  pardon  me  if  I  ask  a  question  or  two?  Do  not  answer 
me  if  they  are  improper.  Y''ou  spoke  of  traders  just  now.  Are 
you  a  trader?" 

"  I  am  supercargo  of  a  blockade-runner  at  present." 

"  And  at  other  times  ?" 

Miles  hesitated. 

"  Do  not  answer,  my  friend.  Let  us  go  in,  and  Annot  will  give 
us  some  music." 

"  But  I  would  rather  answer  if  you  will  allow  me.  I  inherited 
some  little  property.  It  is  encumbereil.  I  earnestly  desire  to  be 
free  from  debt,  and  therefore  I  am  blockade-running.  A  foolish 
pride,  I  suppose,  made  me  desire  to  earn  the  money  I  need  without 
the  knowledge  of  my  associates.  If  I  can  get  out  with  my  ship, 
and  get  back  to  England  with  a  cargo  of  cotton,  I  will  have  enough 
for  my  purpose." 

"  Pray  say  no  more,  Mr.  Miles,"  said  his  host.  "  It  was  not 
merely  curiosity  that  prompted  the  question,  however.  Let  us 
go  in." 

As  they  passed  in,  following  Annot,  Miles  touched  the  arm  of  his 
host. 

"  I  will  ask  permission  to  propound  a  question  or  two,  also,"  he 
whispered. 

"  As  many  as  you  please,"  replied  Mr.  Dale. 


68  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Not  now.     Miss  Dale,  if  you  will  sing  that  song  once  more " 

"  You  will  assist  me  ?"  she  answered. 

**'  Let  me  hear  it  first,  please.  If  I  capture  the  melody,  I  will  try 
the  bass." 

Song  followed  song  as  the  swift  minutes  sped  away.  In  turning 
over  the  music,  INIiles  .selected  a  song  and  placed  it  before  her.  It 
was  "Annie  Laurie."  She  quietly  substituted  another  and  sang  it. 
After  some  delay  he  uncovered  it  again,  and  set  it  up  on  the  music- 
desk. 

"  You  do  not  care  particularly  for  that  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Not  if  you  prefer  anything  else,"  he  ansM-ered. 

"  I  will  sing  anything  else  you  would  like,"  she  said,  with  a 
troubled  air.  Miles  suddenly  remembered  the  parting  words  of  Cap- 
tain Stanly,  and  was  astounded  to  feel  a  jealous  pang  shoot  through 
his  heart.  While  he  still  meditated,  she  continued  :  "  Oh,  this  hor- 
rible, horrible  war!     Do  you  hear  the  guns?" 

"  I  have  heard  something  like  shots  occasionally,"  replied  Miles, 
looking  into  her  pale  face  with  genuine  sympathy.  He  had  choked 
the  jealousy. 

"  Only  the  pickets  exchanging  compliments,"  said  Mr.  Dale. 
"  They  are  miles  distant,  Annot." 

"  Yes,  father,"  she  answered,  vehemently,  "  but  we  hear  them ! 
Oh  !  if  we  could  only  fly  from  the  dreadful  sound  !  I  really  cannot 
sing  any  more  to-night.  What  horrible  discord  those  sharp  reports 
make  !  Oh  for  the  time  when  He  shall  make  wars  to  cease  !"  And 
her  gentle  eyes  were  moist  as  she  closed  the  piano. 

"  Poor  child !"  said  ]Mr.  Dale.  "  We  will  go  to  Charleston, 
Annot,  in  a  week  or  two " 

"And  hear  the  constant  cannonade  from  the  forts  and  ships!" 
said  she.  "  Every  time  I  hear  the  spiteful  snap  of  the  guns  yonder, 
I  think  some  poor  woman  may  be  a  widow — some  poor  child  an 
orphan.     Oh,  the  wickedness  of  war  !" 

"  You  are  the  first  woman  I  have  met  in  America,"  said  Miles, 
"  who  does  not  strenuously  advocate  war." 

"  Yes,  and  therefore  the  war  continues.  But  my  interests  are  not 
identical  with  theirs,  because  we  are  English,  and  have  an  English 
home.     Oh,  father,  let  us  go  home !" 

"My  dear,"  replied  Mr.  Dale,  "there  are  certain  obstacles  in  the 
way.  I  cannot  sell  this  Dale's  Manor,  and  I  have  not  enough  money 
to  litigate  for  the  other  Dale's  Manor.  We  have  a  little  patrimony 
in  Somerset,  Mr.  Miles,  which  we  think  is  unjustly  withheld  from  us. 


SOME  LETTERS.  G9 

If  I  oiniltl  gain  possession  of  that  I  would  gladly  return.  But  the 
present  holder  is  a  cold,  hard  man,  and  an  enemy." 

Miles  had  an  indistinct  memory  of  Dale's  Manor  as  a  portion  of 
the  estate  of  Mr.  lirentam.  It  was  an  extensive  tract  of  farm  lands, 
south  of  tlie  mills  and  the  villajice.  The  name  clung  to  it  only  in 
the  traditions  of  the  villagers,  and  he  had  scarcely  heard  it  since  his 
boyhood. 

"  I  have  a  confused  recollection  of  a  S[)ot  sometimes  called  Dale's 
Manor,"  he  said,  after  meditating  some  minutes;  "I  think  it  is  near 
Brentam  Mills." 

'•Yes." 

"  Anvthinjr  vou  choose  to  tell  me  about  it  shall  be  held  confidcn- 
tially.  I  confess  a  burning  curiosity,  but  I  would  not  presume  to 
ask  any  questions." 

"You  are  an  English  gentleman,"  answered  Mr.  Dale,  "and  I 
will  tell  you  tlie  story  without  conditions.  Sit  here  by  me,  Annot, 
and  correct  me  if  I  go  astray  in  my  narrative.  Take  the  arm-chair, 
Mr.  Miles." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Some  Letters. 

^T^HE  monotony  of  Hyland's  life  in  the  north  country  was  broken 
-■-  one  day  by  the  arrival  of  a  mail  from  Calcutta.  There  were 
three  letters  for  him:  two  from  Englan<l  and  one  from  Calcutta. 
Kecognising  the  hand  of  his  brother  in  the  address  of  one  of  the 
English  letters,  he  opened  that  first.  The  reader  luus  already  had 
an  extract  from  this  letter,  but  there  was  a  postscript  added,  that 
engrossed  Hyland's  attention. 

''Since  writing  the  foregoing,  my  dear  brother,"  it  ran,  "I  have 
j^roposed  to  Miss  Carey  and  have  been  rejected.  I  cannot  account  for 
it,  except  upon  the  general  ground  of  my  un worthiness"-^ Miles  was 
too  true  a  gentleman  to  tell  even  Hyland  that  Mildred  had  in- 
timated her  preference  for  another) — "  or  upon  the  supposition  tiiat  she 
may  like  some  other  fellow  better.  It  has  discomposed  me  somewhat, 
yet  I  do  not  at  all  feel  that  life  is  a  blank  to  me  henceforth.  Neither 
do  I  think  of  renewing  the  attiick.  They  say  a  lion  only  jumps 
once  for  his  prey.     If  he  misses  the  first  conp^  he  does  not  essay  a 


70  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

second,  but  just  marches  off.     I  return  to  my  original  programme, 
namely  :  to  live  single,  and  leave  the  title  to  you  and  your  lieirs. 

"  However,  I  do  not  intend  to  leave  you  an  incumbered  estate, 
and  am  therefore  about  to  engage  in  an  enterprise  that  looks  promis- 
ing to  me.  It  is  a  close  secret,  brother,  and  I  will  tell  you  about  it 
when — it  is  accomplished.  Meantime  I  am  going  to  disappear — do 
not  be  alarmed — I  am  not  going  to  incur  any  risk  of  bodily  damage. 
I  have  been  concocting  the  scheme  ever  since  you  left  me,  and  I 
feel  tolerably  confident  of  success.  But  my  partner  enjoins  strict 
secrecy  upon  me,  and  I  have  his  pledge  also  to  the  same  effect.  If 
you  do  not  hear  from  me  for,  say,  six  or  eight  months,  just  conclude 
that  I  am  spending  the  summer  and  autumn  in  Siberia,  making 
surveys  for  railway  lines.  You  know  I  am  an  accomplished  engineer, 
and  do  not  be  foolish  enough  to  indulge  in  any  apprehensions  on  my 
account.  I  think  lean  promise  to  conmiunicate  with  you  within  six 
calendar  months.     Possess  your  soul  in  patience  thus  long,  brother. 

"  I  may  confess  that  my  recent  disappointment  makes  me  the 
more  eager  to  engage  in  this  new  affair,  as  I  desire  the  cares  that 
will  necessarily  devolve  upon  me  to  banish  the  memory  of  this  failure. 
But  if  I  had  been  fortunate  in  my  suit,  I  should  still  have  under- 
taken this  enterprise,  as  I  am  resolved  to  get  Hawkley  clear  if  pos- 
sible. My  rental  is  nearly  four  thousand  pounds,  and  if  I  had  no 
incumbrances  I  should  feel  rich  enough. 

"And  now,  Hyland,  good-bye  for  a  short  time.  I  may  not  be 
able  to  write  you,  the  mail  facilities  in  Siberia  are  defective,  you 
know.  Keep  writing  to  me  as  usual.  I  hope  to  find  a  good  budget 
of  letters  waiting  for  me  at  Hawkley  when  I  return. 

"  Your  affectionate  brother, 

"  Miles." 

Poor  Hyland  was  stunned.  Somehow  there  had  grown  up  be- 
tween these  two  men  a  sense  of  proprietorship  on  one  hand  and  of 
dependence  on  the  other.  Hyland  was  so  much  more  prompt  and 
aggressive  in  his  character,  that  Miles  had  fallen  under  a  sort  of 
tutelage,  and  Hyland  always  felt  a  responsibility  upon  himself  when 
thinking  of  the  elder.  At  Eton,  once  and  again,  Hyland  had 
thrashed  a  bull-headed  "commoner,"  who  was  seeking  a  quarrel 
with  his  brother  simply  because  he  was  a  "  nob,"  and  on  both  oc- 
casions Hyland  had  adroitly  managed  to  induce  a  previous  quarrel 
with  the  bully,  without  the  knowledge  of  Miles.  The  fight,  by  Eton 
law,  was  Hyland's  right,  and  his  brother  did  not  dare  to  interfere. 


SOME  LETTERS.  71 

Ami  ill  later  life  Hylaiul  had  devised  ways  of  egress  from  financial 
diffienltics,  ntilizing  Lord  Itayneford's  own  resources,  wisely  and 
well.  And  now,  he  felt  that  Miles  had  siuldenly  snapjjcd  the  leading- 
strings;  and  with  the  inevitable  conceit  of  youth,  he  fancied  tiiat  all 
would  go  wrong  without  his  oversight.  "  New  enterprise !"  he  mut- 
tered ;  "more  likely  some  old  humbug  that  I  could  have  exploded 
if  I  had  been  there!  Siberia!  I  have  a  great  mind  to  start  on 
an  overland  journey  to  that  charming  country  and  look  the  fellow 
up!  But  Siberia  is  not  the  objective-point.  The  letter  is  clear. 
He  names  Siberia  as  the  most  distant  j)lace  from  his  real  destination. 
Probably  he  has  gone  to  the  antipodes.  I  think  I  will  explore 
Patagonia!  I  wish  I  could  find  him,  and  he  could  cease  being 
my  brother  for  ten  minutes  till  I  punched  his  head!  Dear  old 
Miles !" 

Then  Hyland  opened  the  other  English  letter.  This  was  written 
fully  two  weeks  later,  and  was  from  Mr.  Plimpton. 

"  My  dear  Kayneford,"  it  began,  "  I  am  so  heartily  delighted  with 
your  assured  success  in  India,  that  nothing  short  of  very  grave  anx- 
iety would  impel  me  to  interrupt  your  career  or  disturb  you  in  your 
present  occupations.  Your  brother.  Lord  llayneford,  has  unaccount- 
ably disappeared.  Do  not  be  alarmed.  There  is  not  the  slightest 
reason  to  suspect  anything  like  foul  play  or  to  dread  any  personal 
danger.  But  he  is  gone,  and  positively  nobody  knows  whither !  He 
has  gone  of  his  own  accord,  and  after  the  most  deliberate  preparation. 
And  he  has  taken  elaborate  measures  to  conceal  his  purposes  and 
destination  from  every  one.  I  went  down  to  Somerset,  and  spent 
some  hours  with  Mr.  Brentam,  who  received  his  last  communication, 
and  who  could  give  me  not  the  slightest  clue  as  to  his  whereabouts. 
Mr.  Brentam  allowed  me  to  copy  the  note,  which  was  quite  brief.  I 
reproduce  it  for  your  benefit :  '  My  dear  ^Ir.  Brentam,  I  have  decided 
to  leave  England  to-morrow,  and  shall  be  absent  some  months, 
having  certain  matters  in  charge  of  considerable  importance.  The 
business  that  takes  me  away  is  one  in  which  another  person  is  deeply 
interested,  and  we  are  mutually  bound  to  keep  all  its  details  secret. 
Although  somewhat  out  of  the  beaten  track,  it  still  involves  little 
risk  of  bodily  harm,  and  I  expect  to  return  to  Plawkley  within  six 
months  or  less.  I  will  take  measures  to  communicate  with  you,  if 
necessary,  and  if  any  unforeseen  calamity  should  overtake  me,  you 
will  be  notified  as  soon  as  possible  thereafter.  I  enclose  the  legal 
authority  for  you  to  take  charge  of  my  interests,  if  any  exigency 
should  arise,  in  the  matter  of  rental,  etc.     Very  truly  yours,  Rayne- 


72  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

ford.'  That  is  all.  This  note  was  dated  in  Liverpool,  Monday,  8th 
instant.  I  <Vent  to  Liverpool,  and  by  searching  the  records  found 
only  one  ship  left  that  port  on  the  9th.  It  was  the  'Asia,'  for  Mel- 
bourne. It  hap})ened  that  I  met  a  detective — a  Mr.  Dancer,  whom 
I  have  employed  on  one  or  two  occasions  with  great  success,  and  I 
told  him  the  story.  You  see,  I  am  the  only  near  connexion  of  your 
family  here,  and  I  felt  bound  to  leave  no  eflTorts  untried  to  assure 
myself  of  his  present  safety.  In  two  days  Dancer  brought  me  the 
assurance  that  Miles  had  not  sailed  in  the  '  Asia.'  He  had  been  at 
the  Adelphi  Hotel,  and  had  taken  his  luggage  on  the  morning  of  the 
9th  in  a  cab,  without  leaving  any  orders.  Dancer,  with  his  usual 
pertinacity,  hunted  up  the  cab,  and  after  assuring  himself  by  several 
proofs  that  he  had  the  right  one,  he  questioned  the  cabby,  and  learned 
that  he  had  taken  Miles  to  the  Lime  street  station,  and  saw  him  on 
the  train  for  Bristol.  Here  the  trail  was  lost.  But  Dancer  is  still 
*  working  the  case.'  I  should  say,  he  is  a  private  detective,  and  no 
one  knows  of  his  employment  except  myself. 

"  Now,  what  do  you  think  of  the  matter?  Here  is  a  young  noble- 
man of  spotless  reputation,  of  sober  habits,  suddenly  disappearing 
from  the  surface !  There  has  never  been  any  case  of  insanity  in  the 
family.  There  was  nothing  in  his  circumstances  to  induce  him  to 
withdraw  from  society.  He  was  engaged  to  read  a  paper  on  the 
Poor  Laws  before  the  Humanitarian  Society  this  week,  and  had 
half  promised  to  spend  three  days  with  me  in  London,  but  he  ex- 
cused himself  a  week  before  he  left  from  both  engagements,  upon 
the  plea  of  '  urgent  private  business.'  He  has  paid  up  some  small 
obligations  maturing  six  months  hence,  and  methodically  prepared 
for  an  absence  of  that  duration. 

"  If  you  are  in  his  confidence,  pray  enlighten  me  enough  to  relieve 
my  anxiety  about  him.  But  I  do  not  believe  he  has  told  even  you 
of  his  intentions.  It  really  seems  to  me,  Rayneford,  that  I  should 
cut  India  and  hunt  for  him,  if  he  were  my  brother. 

"Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

"  H.  Plimpton." 

"This  is  improving !"  said  Hyland ;  "Miles  runs  mad  and  ab- 
sconds, and  then  Plimpton  runs  mad  and  sets  a  detective  on  him  ! 
And  I  shall  run  mad  and  complete  the  trio,  unless  I  go  back  to 
England.  Ah,  this  other  letter  is  from  Glendare.  No  mistaking 
his  calligraphy.     Let  us  see  if  he  has  gone  mad  also." 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  Mr.  Glendare's  letter,  "  Daltman  tells  me 


SOME  LETTERS.  73 

a  nmil  will  go  to  the  plantations  to-morrow,  and  I  will  avail  myself 
of  the  opportunity  to  say  a  few  wonls  to  you.  It  seems  like  a  year 
since  we  parted,  and  I  have  had  no  chanee  to  communicate  with  you 
since  tiie  arrival  of  your  '  Quinia'  letter.  By-the-bye,  that  letter 
created  a  great  stir  in  our  camp  at  Xnttagur.  Doctor  Leigh  scouted 
your  American  friend's  theories,  and  to  prove  his  errors  he  inconti- 
nently cured  Miss  Haidee  without  exhibiting  your  darling  remedy. 
In  a  few  days  after  your  missive  arrived,  she  discarded  all  her  head- 
gear, and  has  had  no  symptt)nis  of  neuralgia  since.  It  is  a  pity  you 
did  not  put  Doctor  Leigh  upon  his  mettle  earlier,  as  you  woidd  have 
been  able  to  discover  for  yourself  how  attractive  the  child  is.  She 
is  really  very  pretty,  and  if  she  would  (piit  novel  reading  and  take 
a  eoui*se  of  substantial  literature,  she  would  soon  rival  her  sister. 

"  Colonel  Mordaunt  seems  to  be  failing,  and  Doctor  Leigh  tells 
me  he  will  certainly  be  compelled  to  quit  this  climate  very  soon,  to 
preserve  his  life.  He  was  ordered  back  from  \uttagur  a  month 
ago,  and  Calcutta  makes  him  worse.  He  is  still  reticent,  as  of  old, 
and  discloses  none  of  his  plans,  but  I  have  reason  to  think  he  is 
projecting  a  trip  to  England.  Frank  certainly  is.  And  do  you 
know  that  I  am  ex})ecting  to  go  with  them?  Certain  family  matters 
combine  to  call  me  home.     Come  with  us,  Rayneford." 

"Here  is  the  third  madman,"  said  Hyland. 

"Colonel  Mordaunt  says,"  continued  the  letter,  "you  can  easily 
get  leave  of  absence.  Indeed,  he  volunteered  to  hint  that  a  word 
from  him  would  secure  that,  and  at  my  suggestion  he  has  already 
taken  the  initial  steps.  You  see,  my  friend,  I  would  not  have  you 
take  the  long  journey  to  Calcutta  upon  an  uncertainty.  We  shall 
have  an  excellent  ship,  the  'Lord  Clive'  steamer,  twelve  hundred 
tons,  sailing  on  the  22d.  Frank  is  going  to  sell  out  when  he  reaches 
England  ;  at  least,  he  says  so.  He  has  iidierited  some  money,  and 
he  does  not  think  India  furnishes  a  field  for  spending  equal  to  his 
talents.  To  indicate  his  ability,  I  may  mention  his  last  purchase. 
Caj)tain  Morgan  had  a  yacht,  now  at  Cardiff,  and  at  tiffin  yesterday 
he  hapjiened  to  speak  of  the  expense  of  keeping  the  vessel  in  repair. 
He  had  just  paid  some  large  amount  for  a  complete  overhauling. 
Master  Frank  asked  why  he  did  not  sell  out.  Morgan  replied,  'All 
the  fools  who  have  enough  tin  to  buy  a  yacht  already  own  one.' 
Frank  asked  the  name  of  Morgan's  vessel.  The  *  Juliet,'  schooner, 
eighty-five  tons.  What  did  she  cost?  About  two  thousand  pounds. 
'I'll  give  you  a  thousand,' said  Daltmau.  'Done!' said  Morgan, 
'  with  the  cheque.'  " 


74  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Frank  bids  me  write  you  to  join  him  in  a  cruise  three  months 
from  the  present  date.  He  will  sail  out  of  Cardiff,  steer  north,  and 
circumnavigate  Great  Britain." 

"  Here  is  one  more  madman  than  I  needed,"  said  Hyland.  "  Dalt- 
man  professes  to  abominate  salt  water,  yet  he  buys  a  vessel,  arranges 
a  cruise,  and  invites  me  to  bob  about  on  the  short  waves  of  the 
Channel  for  weeks !  Declined,  with  thanks !  Let  us  finish  the 
letter  though." 

''Since  writing  the  preceding  page,"  concluded  Mr.  Glendare,  "I 
have  seen  tiie  colonel.  The  application  is  granted.  Four  months. 
You  cannot  accept  Frank's  invitation  unless  you  get  an  extension 
of  leave.  Nevertheless,  come  quickly,  and  we  will  reorganise  our 
Nuttagur  party  on  board  the  'Lord  Clive.'  Remember  the  22d, 
and  hasten.  "  Your  friend, 

"  Hamish  Glendare." 

Hyland  picked  up  the  enclosure  that  fell  out  of  his  friend's  letter. 
It  was  the  regular  announcement  of  leave  on  the  printed  form,  re- 
questing the  Honourable  Hyland  Rayneford  to  report  for  duty  at 
Calcutta  "  four  months  from  the  22d  of  the  current  month." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  sound  common  sense  in  Hy land's  com- 
position, but  there  was  also  an  instinctive  antagonism  to  "  manage- 
ment." Whenever  his  quick  discernment  detected  another's  purpose 
to  lead  him  or  drive  him,  there  always  arose  the  prompt  determina- 
tion to  resist  the  influence.  It  is  by  no  means  certain  that  this  trait 
was  an  indication  of  weakness,  or  a  defect  in  his  character.  It  may 
be  the  instinctive  recoil  of  normal  humanity  from  creature  domina- 
tion. Whether  created  or  evolved,  man  is  the  lord  of  the  earth. 
If  created,  he  was  made  in  an  exalted  image;  if  evolved,  he  was 
the  fittest  that  survived,  and  the  survival  includes  royalty.  Within 
proper  limits,  the  consciousness  of  high  station  does  not  involve 
self-conceit ;  but  beyond  those  limits  it  degenerates  into  arrogance 
and  insolence. 

"Now,"  said  he,  as  he  meditated  upon  the  letters,  "a  trip  to 
England  was  just  what  I  desired  before  I  read  Glendare's  letter. 
But  he  did  not  know  that.  Neither  did  the  colonel,  or  Mr.  Daltman. 
They  have  arranged  their  plans,  and  my  movements  are  a  part  of 
them.     We  shall  see." 

Four  days  after  he  re-read  the  letters.  In  the  meantime  he  had 
concluded  that  his  brother  was  safe,  and  had  increased  his  resentment 
against  Mr.  Plimpton,  because  he  had  presumed  to  hunt  for  Miles 


ON  THE  SEA.  75 

"  with  hawk  ami  hoiiiul,  the  fussy  old  granny  !"  But  there  had 
also  grown  up  in  him  an  irrepressible  longing  to  see  Miles.  So  on 
the  fifth  (lay  he  was  on  his  way  to  Calcutta. 

lie  arrived  on  the  22d,  and  found  two  notes,  one  from  Colonel 
M(.r(hiunt,  giving  his  address  in  England,  "  14  George  Crescent, 
Bath."     Tiie  other  Wiis  a  scrawl  from  Daltman,  the  ink  scarcely  dry. 

*'  Dear  Raynefoiid — You  have  not  arrived,  and  the  ship  sails 
in  ten  minutes.  Mildred  writes  that  your  brother  is  off  to  the  Con- 
tinent or  somewhere  else,  and  asks  if  you  have  heard  from  him. 
Mr.  Brentam  does  not  know  where  he  is.  Better  come  on  in  the 
next  steamer.  Yacht  will  be  all  ready  in  sixty  days.  Morgan  says 
she  sails  like  a  witch.  Don't  know  how  a  witch  sails.  We  shall 
have  a  jolly  time  on  the  *  Clive,'  but  we  shall  miss  you.  Why  the 
deuce  didn't  you  come  ?  "  ^  ours, 

"  Daltman." 

The  black  smoke  from  the  funnel  of  the  "  Clive,"  far  down  the 
Hoogly  river,  was  all  that  Ilyland  ever  saw  of  the  steamer. 

At  nightfall  a  one-armed  native  presented  himself,  as  Hyland 
sucked  at  his  cheroot. 

"  Salaam,  sahib !  Another  ship  sails  in  two  days.  Will  sahib 
go?  Zeba  will  go  also.  Colonel  Sahib  gave  Zeba  ticket  for  other 
ship,  but  he  waited." 

"Did  you  wait  for  me,  Zeba?"  said  Hyland,  touched  by  the 
Hindoo's  manner. 

<'  Yes,  sahib.  Help  find.  Got  tulwar."  And  he  touched  the  hilt 
of  his  weapon.     "  And  got  one  arm  and  one  eye  left." 

"  One  more  madman !"  thought  Hyland,  looking  into  the  sharp 
black  eye  of  the  native. 


CHAPTER    XTV. 

Ox  THE  Sea. 

HE  "  Bengal"  was  a  screw-steamer  from  Calcutta,  bound  for 
London,  with  an  assorted  cargo,  and  having  limited  accom- 
modations for  pa.ssengers.  The  previous  steamer  was  the  regular 
passenger  vessel,  and  had  tiiken  out  a  goodly  company,  so  that  Hy- 


T 


76  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

land  and  Zeba  were  the  enly  voyagers,  excepting  the  officers  and 
crew,  that  steamed  away  from  the  mouth  of  the  Hoogly  river  into 
the  bay  of  Bengal  on  one  hot  morning.  Zeba,  who  had  come  aboard 
in  the  habiliments  of  European  civilization,  relai)sed  into  Asiatic 
barbarism  as  the  ship  began  to  rise  and  fall  upon  the  regular  swell 
of  the  sea,  and  resumed  his  muslins. 

The  first  days  at  sea  are  usually  delicious,  except  to  the  sufferers 
from  mal  de  mer.  To  a  thinking  man,  if  free  froni  cumbering 
cares,  the  horizon  presents  an  array  of  vast  problems,  which  are  not 
readily  solved,  but  which  demand  attention  throughout  one  entire 
day  at  least.  And  the  after-monotony  does  not  conn)letely  banish 
them  from  the  mind.  The  eifect  of  the  expanse  of  waters  upon 
Hyland  was  to  arouse  his  philosophy,  and  the  results  of  this 
awakening  were  sundry  entries  in  his  diary. 

"Out  here  upon  this  hot  sea,"  he  wrote,  "five  feet  eleven  seems 
to  dwindle  down  to  modest  dimensions.  If  I  were  to  stick  a  pin  in 
the  dome  of  St.  Paul's,  it  would  make  no  appreciable  addition  to  the 
weight,  and  would  be  invisible  at  the  distance  of  a  vard.  But  the 
proportion  of  the  pin  to  the  dome  would  be  a  thousand  times  greater 
than  my  proportion  to  this  vast  sea.  Nay,  the  ship  might  slip 
under  one  of  those  big  waves  and  go  down,  hardly  adding  a  bubble 
to  the  restless  ocean.  But  there  are  thirty  men  on  board,  and  each 
one  has  some  link  binding  him  to  the  earth.  And  the  ship  and 
cargo  represent  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence. 

"There  is  that  heathen  Zeba,  in  scarlet  jacket  and  white  kilt;  one 
sleeve  pinned  up,  one  eye  darkened.  He  is  hanging  his  tulwar, 
naked,  to  the  rigging.  And  now  he  is  walking  around  it,  as  it 
swings  to  and  fro.  And  now  he  is  spread  out  upon  the  deck  watch- 
ing it.  Ah !  he  takes  the  weapon  down,  and  slips  it  deftly  into  its 
scabbard  with  his  single  arm. 

"Zeba  has  just  passed  me  with  his  'Salaam,  sahib!'  I  asked 
him  what  he  was  doing  with  his  sword.  He  said,  '  Sahib's  brother 
yonder!  ship  sail  straight  to  him.'  Then  he  walked  aft,  and  has 
gone  to  sleep  on  his  mat.  I  asked  the  mate  how  we  were  steering. 
He  says,  '  A  bit  noath  of  west.'  Now,  if  my  geography  is  not  at 
fault.  Miles  must  be  at  the  Canary  Islands  or  the  *  still  vexed  Ber- 
moothes.'     \Yhat  atrocious  humbug ! 

"  How  shall  I  record  a  philosophical  explanation  of  this  mental 
phenomenon  ?  To  state  the  case  first :  The  Hindoo,  who  is  of 
Brahmin  blood,  practises  some  superstitious  rite  with  his  tulwar. 
When  he  finishes,  he  tells  me,  with  superb  confidence,  that  Miles  is 


ON  THE  SEA.  77 

nearly  due  west  from  mc.  So  great  an  impression  docs  this  make 
uiK)n  me  that  I  ainnot  rest  until  I  learn  from  the  mate  the  exact 
direction.  And  this  very  minute  1  am  (•oii;itatin<i;  a  selieme  to  test 
the  tulwar  again,  when  we  make  our  highest  south  latitude. 

"Now,  an  educated  Englishman,  who  has  no  more  respect  for 
Indian  superstition  than  he  has  for  the  senseless  chattering  of  mon- 
keys, is  seriously  impressed  by  the  incident.  Zeba  looked  thoroughly 
in  earnest,  watching  the  sword  swinging  in  the  rigging  with  unwink- 
ing vigilance  until  it  ceased  rotating,  and  then,  accepting  the  oracle's 
response,  went  to  sleep.  I  suppose  all  the  ])hilosophers  in  the  world 
could  not  shake  his  faith  in  the  tulwar.  AV^hile  I,  Hyland  Rayne- 
ford,  knowing  Kant  and  Spinosa  and  Descartes,  am  under  some 
degree  of  bondage  to  the  solitary  eye  of  this  heathen.  Because  the 
gleam  of  his  eye  was  the  first  thing  that  impre&sed  me  when  he 
said,  'Salaam,  sahib!'  I  Nvas  compelled  to  ask  him  what  the  tulwar 
said. 

"  Kant  asserts  that  freedom  is  the  postulate  of  the  pure,  practical 
reason.  Causality,  in  the  sense  implied  by  freedom,  belongs  to  man 
in  so  far  as  he  is  a  thing-in-itself.  But  causality,  in  the  sense  implied 
in  the  mechanism  of  nature,  belongs  to  him  in  so  far  as  he  is  a  sub- 
ject of  the  realm  of  appearances.  Here  is  the  case  then  :  on  one  side 
noumenon  ;  on  the  other  side,  phenomenon. 

"How,  then,  can  my  freedom,  which  is  an  essential  attribute  of 
my  personality,  be  invaded  by  the  sham  phenomena  of  a  heathen 
rite?  In  iact,  I  do  not  know  that  there  were  any  phenomena.  I 
know  nothing,  except  the  Hindoo's  devotion  to  me,  which,  after  all, 
I  only  infer.  Can  there  be  some  secret  law — dynamical— :underlying 
the  superstitious  observances  of  the  heathen  ?  What  is  the  genesis 
of  superstition  ?" 

"While  Hyland  was  weaving  these  metaphysical  cobwebs,  Zeba  was 
quietly  dreaming  on  his  mat,  the  rays  of  the  tropical  sun  beating  on 
his  prostrate  body.  The  day  before  the  "Lord  Clive"  sailed  Zeba 
had  overheard  a  discussion  between  Daltman  and  Mr.  Glendare, 
in  which  the  prominent  fact  was  the  disapi)earance  of  Lord  Raync- 
ford,  and  the  missionary  had  asserted  very  emphatically  that  Hyland 
would  certainly  go  to  England  to  seek  his  brother.  The  devotion 
of  the  Hindoo  to  Hyland  was  not  demonstrative,  but  it  was  real.  It 
reached  its  climax  at  the  tiger  fight,  though  months  of  kindly  inter- 
course while  the  two  threaded  the  jungle  in  Hyland's  surveys  had 
generated  respect  and  esteem  on  both  sides.  Rayneford  was  con- 
stantly reminded  of  the  acute  intelligence  of  the  native,  who  learned 


78  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

everything  and  forgot  nothing.  Zeba  studied  with  curious  interest 
the  character  of  this  English  sahib,  who  never  swore  at  him,  never 
manifested  contempt  by  look  or  gesture,  but  provided  for  his  com- 
fort on  all  occasions  with  spontaneous  kindness.  But  in  the  short 
colloquy  preceding  the  combat  Zeba  recognised  the  warrior,  and 
since  the  days  of  Tubal  Cain  the  warrior  has  been  acknowledged  lord 
among  all  the  tribes  of  earth.  Haidee  dubbed  Hyland  "  Knight." 
Zeba  called  him  "Sahib,"  and  meant  it. 

Four  hundred  miles  southwest  of  the  "  Bengal"  a  far  more  brilliant 
company  was  gathered  under  the  awning  covering  the  quarter-deck 
of  the  "  Lord  Clive."  There  was  very  little  wind,  and  what  there 
was  came  from  the  south,  so  that  the  motion  of  the  ship  increased 
the  apparent  force  of  the  breeze.  The  colonel  was  lying  in  a  grass 
hammock  swinging  between  the  mizzen-mast  and  the  wheel-house. 
Miss  Mordaunt,  having  conscientiously  undergone  the  conventional 
forty-eight  hours  of  agony  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  ladies'  cabin, 
was  propped  up  with  pillows  against  the  skylight,  receiving  the  po- 
lite attentions  of  Mr.  Daltman.  Mr.  Glendare  and  Dr.  Leigh  were 
pacing  the  deck  and  talking  })olitics. 

Haidee  had  waited  upon  Juliet  through  three  or  four  hours  of 
actual  sickness,  which  began  with  the  first  tremulous  roll  of  the  ship 
off  soundings.  Then  came  the  other  hours  of  querulous  discomfort, 
and  Juliet  dismissed  her  and  demanded  the  ayah.  The  doctor  pre- 
scribed a  teaspoonful  of  brandy  every  two  hours,  which  the  ayah 
faithfully  administered,  and  as  faithfully  stole  a  tablespoonful  for 
herself  at  shorter  intervals,  which  she  took  neat.  So  Haidee  betook 
herself  to  the  deck,  with  the  "  Chronicles  of  Sir  John  Froissart." 
Mr.  Glendare  had  adroitly  substituted  this  volume  for  the  lighter 
literature  in  which  Haidee  was  accustomed  to  revel.  At  present  she 
was  totally  engrossed  in  the  conflict  between  Sir  Bertrand  du  Gues- 
clin  and  the  Captal  De  Buch.  It  was  nearly  as  good  as  "Ivanhoe." 
Hot  knights,  broiling  in  hot  armour,  chopping  each  other  with 
sword  and  battle-axe,  w^hile  she  sat  on  a  pile  of  cushions  in  the 
shade. 

"I  wonder  what  detained  Rayneford  ?"  said  Mr.  Daltman. 
"  Hamish  gave  him  three  or  four  days  extra  time." 

"Probably  he  prefers  Lidia,"  replied  Miss  Mordaunt,  languidly. 

"  But  here  was  a  free  trip,  and  no  abatement  of  pay !"  said  Dalt- 
man. "  I  suspect  he  desires  to  stand  well  with  John  Company,  and 
expects  his  zeal  to  be  remembered.  He  told  me  he  was  after  the 
rupees." 


ON   THE  SEA.  79 

"  He  is  in  a  fair  way  to  <>;ct  them,"  observed  the  colonel.  "  Sir 
John  told  nie  that  he  was  reluctant  to  spare  llaynclbrd,  who  was  the 
best  man  at  the  jilantations." 

"Is  the  pay  large  enough,  colonel,"  asked  Daltman,  "to  compen- 
sate a  man  for  such  a  life?" 

"It  is  a  very  pleasant  life,"  said  the  colonel.  "The  climate  is 
temperate  as  compared  with  Calcutta.  The  pay  is  about  four  times 
as  great  as  that  of  an  army  lieutenant,  and  he  has  no  mess  expenses." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  mnttered  Daltman,  "  that  the  pay  of  civilians 
is  too  great,  or  the  pay  of  army-officers  is  too  small.  Here  I  have 
been  knocking  about  from  the  Cape  to  India  three  or  four  years, 
living  among  the  African  niggers  at  one  place,  and  the  rascally 
Hindoo  niggers  at  the  other,  and  coming  out  in  debt  at  the  end  of 
each  year!  If  my  good  old  aunt  had  not  remembered  me  in  her 
will,  I  should  have  been  in  the  Gazette.  Now  Mr.  Rayneford  just 
steps  into  a  comfortable  revenue  without  the  slightest  trouble  or 
risk  or  exi)osure.  It  is  all  luck  !  There  was  that  tiger  business. 
Rayneford's  luck  put  him  in  the  exact  spot  to  bag  the  game !" 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Haidee,  shutting  Frois.sart  up  with  a  snap, 
"that  Mr.  Rayneford  walked  up  to  the  exact  spot,  looking  for  the 
luck  !  There  was  nobody  between  him  and  the  tiger  except  poor 
Zeba.     Papa,  why  did  Zeba  not  come  with  us  ?" 

"  He  asked  permission  to  wait  for  'Sahib  Hyland,'  "  replied  the 
colonel.  "He  confidently  expected  him,  and  at  his  request  I  trans- 
ferred his  ticket  from  the  '  Lord  Clive'  to  the  '  Bengal.'  " 

"How  could  the  Hindoo  expect  Rayneford?"  asked  Mr.  Glendare, 
pausing  in  his  walk. 

"Zeba  is  a  necromancer,"  replied  Colonel  Mordaunt,  reluctantly. 

"  Go  on,  papa,  please,"  said  Ilaidee. 

"  Your  head  is  full  enough  of  nonsense  already,  child,"  said  the 
colonel,  smiling,  "  but  you  know  something  of  the  superstitions  of 
the  western  provinces.  Many  of  their  delusions  are  connected  with 
their  weapons.  For  example:  if  a  man  kills  a  tiger  with  a  sword- 
stroke,  in  a  fair  encounter,  the  sword  becomes  an  oracle  thereafter. 
The  responses  are  thought  infallible  if  the  warrior's  blood  is  mingled 
with  the  blood  of  the  beast  on  the  blade.  Zeba  has  been  practising 
his  black-art  with  his  tulwar,  and  it  told  him  Rayneford  was  coming 
to  Calcutta." 

"  But  Zeba  did  not  fulfil  the  conditions,"  said  Daltman.  "  He 
did  not  kill  the  tiger  outright." 

"No.     But  he  says  Rayueford  is  Lord  of  the  tulwar." 


80  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  The  conditions  are  still  halting,"  replied  Daltraan  ;  "  Zeba  had 
already  shot  the  brute  before  Rayneford  encountered  liim." 

"No,"  said  the  colonel;  "  Zeba's  bullet  was  flattened  against  the 
rock.  He  brought  it  to  me  a  day  or  two  after  Leigh  let  him  out  of 
hospital.     The  tiger  was  in  full  vigour,  and  totally  unharmed," 

"  I  thought  so,"  murmured  Haidee. 

"  It  is  very  curious,"  pursued  the  colonel,  "  but  the  conditions 
were  very  accurately  met  at  all  points,  liayneford  demanded  the 
weapon  at  the  first  appearance  of  danger.  He  refused  to  relinquish 
it,  when  you  demanded  it,  in  turn.  Zeba  missed  his  shot,  and 
Rayneford  conquered  by  his  unaided  prowess.  And  while  he  held 
the  dripping  tulwar  in  his  wounded  hand,  his  own  blood  ran  down 
over  hilt  and  blade." 

"  That  is  true,"  murmured  Haidee ;  "  I  saw  it !" 

"How  the — deuce  does  the  tulwar  reveal  its  secrets?"  said  Dalt- 
man;  "can  it  talk?" 

"  Zeba  translates  its  mysterious  responses  by  his  own  methods," 
replied  the  colonel.  "  I  do  not  understand  them.  His  caste  is  the 
Chehteree,  and  he  is  an  undoubted  noble.  I  found  him  a  dozen 
years  ago  at  Lahore.  He  stt\nds  next  to  the  Brahmins,  and  would 
die  rather  than  occupy  a  servile  position.  I  made  him  corporal,  and 
have  always  had  unlimited  confidence  in  him.  He  talks  all  the 
dialects,  but  while  he  was  delirious,  he  jabbered  constantly  in  the 
Pracrit.  Haidee  understood  him.  Her  ayah,  Sista,  is  from  Lahore 
also,  and  she  has  caught  the  lingo  from  her.  During  the  mutiny, 
Zeba  brought  Haidee  and  Sista  to  me,  out  of  the  very  jaws  of  death, 
travelling  over  forty  miles  through  a  country  filled  with  enemies." 

"  His  fighting  days  are  over,"  said  Dr.  Leigh.  "  With  one  arm 
and  one  eye  gone,  he  is  only  half  a  man." 

"  He  would  give  a  good  account  of  himself,"  replied  the  colonel, 
"  with  an  ordinary  antagonist.  I  have  seen  him  toss  his  tulwar 
whirling  in  the  air,  catch  it  by  the  hilt  with  his  left  hand  as  it  fell, 
and  slice  off  the  top  of  a  post  four  or  five  inches  in  diameter." 

"  The  savage  !"  murmured  Juliet. 

"  The  warrior !"  whispered  Haidee.  "  Papa,"  she  continued, 
aloud,  "  you  do  not  explain  what  Zeba  meant  by  '  Lord  of  the 
tulwar.' " 

"  Mr.  Rayneford  became  Lord  of  the  tulwar  when  he  slew  the 
tiger.  And  the  oracle,  according  to  Zeba's  superstition,  cannot 
withhold  its  response  when  he  consults  it,  or  when  it  is  consulted  in 
his  behalf.     It  is  all  abominable  nonsense,  of  course,  but  living  so 


OK  THE  SEA.  81 

many  years  among  these  people,  one  is  more  or  less  influenced  by 
their  superstitious  notions.  A  month's  residence  in  England  will 
brush  away  all  these  cobwebs." 

Ilaidee  went  back  to  her  own  cushions  with  Froissart.  She  read  a 
few  pages,  and  then  the  monotonous  shiver  of  the  ship  as  the  screw 
revolved  and  the  monotonous  wash  of  the  sea  induced  somnolency. 
So  she  fell  asleep,  with  the  book  on  her  lap.  She  dreamed  that  she 
had  somehow  exchanged  places  with  the  Captal  De  Buch,  and  that 
she  was  suddenly  surrounded,  captured,  bound  and  carried  off.  She 
saw  the  long  lances  of  her  captors,  and  felt  herself  borne  swiftly 
away,  though  she  still  recognised  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  sea.  She 
heard  the  clank  of  armour,  steel  scabbard  rattling  against  steel 
boot.  She  heard  the  voice  of  Du  Guesclin,  ordering  careful  treat- 
ment of  the  captive,  and  all  the  while  she  felt  the  roll  of  the 
ship.  This  was  very  confusing,  and  opposed  to  the  record  in  Frois- 
sart. 

In  spite  of  her  romance  she  was  a  girl  of  extraordinary  sense, 
so  she  bejmn  to  ask  herself  what  Du  Guesclin  had  seized  her  for. 
Money?  This  was  not  at  all  chivalrous,  but  she  had  a  dozen  sov- 
ereigns in  her  pocket,  and  she  had  a  vague  idea  that  this  sum  was 
a  small  fortune  in  Du  Guesclin's  time. 

Now  suppose  she  offers  what  money  she  has  for  her  liberty  ? 

That  would  accomplish  nothing.  Because  these  strong  men  can 
take  the  money  whenever  they  like.  Better  say  nothing  about  it. 
Ransom?  Of  course,  there  must  be  a  herald  or  something  sent  to 
her  father.  How  can  she  get  a  herald  ?  Sujjpose  she  sent  Sista,  her 
ayah  ?  The  old  wretch  would  fall  asleep  forty  times  in  a  mile.  If 
she  could  only  get  Zeba ! 

There  is  Zeba,  coming  across  the  plain,  tossing  his  tulwar  up  in 
the  air,  and  catching  it  as  it  descends,  and  then  pausing  to  examine 
it  closely,  hilt  and  blade.  He  does  not  notice  her.  He  is  too 
intent  upon  his  mummery  to  notice  anything. 

Ah  !  here  comes  a  knight  to  her  rescue !  He  pauses  to  confer 
with  Zeba  and  takes  his  tulwar.  It  is  Sir  Ilyland's  tulwar.  But 
this  new-comer  is  grey-bearded  and  decrepit.  See !  He  opens  his 
visor  and  shows  his  wrinkled  face.  Nevertheless  he  is  preparing 
for  battle,  while  Zeba  composedly  seats  himself  on  the  ground  to 
watch  the  conflict. 

The  knight  has  changed  his  mind  !  He  dismounts,  props  his  long 
lance  against  his  saddle,  while  the  steed  stands  motionless  as  a  statue. 
The  knight  approaches  Zeba,  and  sticks  the  tulwar  in  the  ground. 

6 


82  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Now  he  and  Zeba  are  circling  round  the  weapon  in  a  kind  of  solemn 
dance. 

Now  he  takes  off  his  helmet,  throws  his  shield  upon  the  ground, 
and,  with  his  grey  locks  and  beard  streaming  in  the  wind,  approaches 
her  captors — and  she  awoke. 

Zeba  was  taking  his  dream  at  the  same  hour  on  the  sunny  deck 
of  the  "  Bengal."  He  got  his  arm  back  in  his  dream,  and  was 
doing  some  very  valiant  fighting  in  the  Punjaub.  Anon,  he  was 
threading  the  jungle  under  the  starlight,  carrying  Haidee,  while 
Sista  crept  along  behind  him.  Then  he  was  in  a  land  of  fogs  and 
snows,  as  his  imagination  painted  England,  following  Sahib  Hyland 
in  his  search  for  his  brother.  This  brother  was  under  the  control  of 
some  wicked  Afreet,  and  Zeba  was  perpetually  circumventing  the  bad 
spirit  by  consultations  with  the  charmed  tulwar. 

Hyland  was  conversing  with  the  second  mate,  an  old  sea-dog, 
who  was  going  to  England  on  his  last  voyage.  Mr.  Jones  was  a 
Welshman,  and  he  was  eloquent  in  describing  the  beauties  of  his 
native  principality.  He  was  hopelessly  deaf,  and  carried  a  small 
slate  swung  to  his  neck,  and  Hyland  conversed  with  the  pencil. 
The  old  sailor  liked  grog,  also,  and  could  never  have  reached  Eng- 
land as  a  ship's  officer  if  the  "  Bengal"  had  not  sailed  out  of  the 
Hoogly  at  a  time  when  navigators  were  exceedingly  scarce,  and  his 
infirmity  was  forgiven  for  the  sake  of  his  undoubted  seamanship. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
The  Battle. 

THE  grey  dawn  found  Mr.  Miles  in  the  saddle.  He  had  heard 
at  intervals,  through  the  previous  night,  the  spiteful  snapping 
of  musquetry,  but  was  not  fully  roused  from  his  slumbers  until  the 
more  prolonged  roar  of  heavier  metal  ushered  in  the  coming  day. 
As  he  collected  his  faculties  and  took  in  his  surroundings,  which 
seemed  gorgeous  in  comparison  with  the  rude  entertainment  he  had 
hitherto  found,  he  recalled  the  vehement  words  of  Annot  on  the 
previous  evening,  and  hoped  she  slept  well  enough  to  escape  the 
sounds  of  conflict,  while  his  window-sashes  rattled  with  each  dis- 
charge of  artillery.  He  could  sympathise  with  her  in  her  horror  of 
the  strife  as  he  pictured  the  heaps  of  human  bodies,  torn  and  shat- 


THE  BATTLE. 


83 


tered  only  a  mile  or  two  distant.  Sleep  was  out  of  the  question,  so 
he  cliT^^sal  rapicllv,  while  the  eager  desire  to  see  the  battle  grew 
ui)on  him  It  was  inevitable;  the  instinctive  impulse  of  man- 
IuhhI  that  drew  him  down-stairs  and  out  upon  the  broad  verandah. 
Here  he  found  Toby,  putting  the  final  touches  upon  his  horseman  s 

'  *'  Vh  Toby '"  he  said,  "  you  are  astir  early.     Are  those  my  boots?" 
"Yes,   massa,"  replial    Toby,   "jest   finished.     You    hear   dem 

shootin's?     'Spect  dat  what  woked  you  up.     Dey's  flingm'  dem 

bustin'  balls  over  yonder !" 
"Shells?"  said  Miles. 
"Shells!     Sho'  as  you  born!     Dat  fight  must  be  down  in  de 

Long  Hollow."  ,  .    ,      ^ 

"  Where  is  it,  Toby  ?"  asked  Miles,  as  he  drew  on  Ins  boots. 

"  Not  fur  from  de  school-house,  sah." 

"  Can  you  get  my  horse,  Toby  ?"     Miles  was  getting  excited. 

"Sartain,  sah!  Walk  in  to  breakfus'-roora.  You  gwine  over 
yonder?'  Take  cup  of  coffee  fust.  Heah  some  cold  chicken.  Git 
some  breakfus'  while  I  saddle." 

Instead  of  going  to  the  school-house,  :Miles  skirted  the  cornfield 
at  the  entrance-gate,  and  guided  by  the  sounds  of  strife,  growing 
more  distinct  every  moment,  he  reached  the  crest  of  a  little  hill,  and 
caught  sight  of  veritable  battle  smoke.  He  was  as  brave  as  became 
a  man  of  gentle  breeding,  vet  the  first  glimpse  of  that  sombre  cloud 
seemed  to  check  his  pulsations.  There  was  a  slight  elevation  oppo- 
site his  hill,  less  than  a  mile  distant,  the  "  Long  Hollow"  lying  be- 
tween. From  this  vantage-ground  came  the  shells,  now  actually 
visible  as  they  burst  into  flame  over  a  strip  of  woodland  on  his  left. 
He  could  see  moving  figures  under  the  trees,  and  the  incessant  streaks 
of  fire,  preceding  the  sharp  report  of  the  rifles,  on  the  edge  of  the 
covert.'  Notwithstanding  his  ignorance  of  warfare,  it  was  apparent 
to  him  that  the  object  on  one  side  was  to  dislodge  the  infantry  in 
the  woods,  while  the  return  fire  could  do  little  damage  to  the  distant 
battery.  There  were  no  signs  to  indicate  which  side  was  Confeder- 
ate ami  he  debated  whether  he  had  better  ride  onward  to  the  wood, 
or  retrace  his  steps,  and  seek  his  friends  of  the  previous  evening  at 
the  school-house.  AVhile  he  sat  irresolute,  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a 
galloping  horse,  and  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 
A  youtl^of  eighteen  or  twenty  swept  by  him  on  the  instant,  touch- 
ing his  cap  as1ie  passed,  his  long  scabbard  rattling  against  the  side 
of  the  magnificent  horse. 


84  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Better  move  off  the  road,  sir  !"  he  shouted  :  "  the  cavalry  \\\\\  be 
here  in  a  minute  or  two." 

Miles  turned  from  the  road  and  cantered  into  a  broad  meadow, 
passing  through  a  gap  in  the  fence.  The  rails  had  been  recently 
pulled  down,  and  were  thrown  in  a  pile  on  the  roadside.  There  was 
the  track  of  horse-hoofs  and  of  wheels,  cutting  the  soft  grass  of  the 
meadow,  all  recent,  and  he  remembered  passing  the  road  on  the  pre- 
vious day,  when  there  were  no  such  marks  visible.  Presently  a 
horseman  came  through  the  gap,  then  another  and  another,  and  then 
a  troop,  trotting  four  abreast.  Before  they  overtook  him  he  had 
reached  a  narrow  valley,  the  dry  bed  of  a  water-course,  and  the 
fortified  hill  and  the  wood  were  l)oth  hidden. 

"  Halt !"  The  order  ran  along  the  line  and  the  officer  in  command 
rode  up. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Miles."  It  was  Captain  Stanly.  "  Did 
the  salutation  of  the  gentlemen  on  the  hill  awaken  you  ?" 

"  I  heard  the  reports  of  large  guns,"  answered  Miles,  shaking  the 
other's  offered  hand,  "  and  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  come 
out." 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  other.     "  We  are  about  to  silence  them.     If  you 

will  ride  back  to  the  gap,  you  can  probably  see Hillo !     That 

shell  was  intended  for  us !  There  is  another !  Attention  !  Captain 
Green,  take  two  companies  and  ride  back  to  the  road.  Take  the 
left  hand  and  join  me  at  the  north  gap,  where  those  fellows  passed 
through  last  night.  They  will  think  their  shells  are  driving  us 
back.  The  woods  will  hide  you  after  you  reach  the  road.  If  I 
reach  the  gap  before  you,  you  have  only  to  follow.     Forward  !" 

"The  devil  take  the  hindmost!"  said  Green,  as  he  dashed  away. 

"May  I  go  with  you?"  asked  Miles,  as  Stanly  resumed  his  trot. 

"  It  will  be  quite  warm  up  there,"  answered  Stanly. 

"  Well,  the  morning  air  is  quite  cool,"  said  Miles. 

"  I  cannot  give  you  the  permission,"  said  Stanly,  gravely,  "  neither 
can  I  forbid  your  presence.     But  I  strongly  advise  you  to  go  back." 

"  Many  thanks,"  replied  Miles,  touching  his  horse  with  the  spur. 
"  Only  tell  me  what  I  must  do  and  what  avoid.  I  desire  to  be  as 
near  you  as  I  may,  but  would  not  violate  proprieties." 

"  Your  principal  occupation  will  be  to  dodge  shells.  When  we 
reach  the  north  gap  we  shall  be  in  full  view,  and  then  we  shall  ride 
over  that  battery.  But  the  present  owners  will  object,  and  we  must 
ride  a  full  half-mile  in  the  face  of  the  storm.  They  will  exchange 
shells  for  grape,  and  if  I  bring  two  hundred  men  back  with  that  bat- 


THE  BATTLE.  85 

tciy,  I  sliall  be  thankful.  Hard  was  badly  wounded  this  morning, 
and  I  am  senior  captain." 

Miles  glanced  backward,  and  tried  to  count.  There  were  about 
five  hundred  men  in  the  regiment,  and  Green  had  taken  nearly  two 
hundred  of  them.  The  rain  of  shells  which  had  been  falling  in  the 
low  valley,  before  Green's  departure,  had  now  passed  to  the  main 
road,  and  Stanly's  party  was  in  comparative  safety. 

They  halted  again  at  the  edge  of  the  meadow,  waiting  the  arrival 
of  Green  with  his  command.  Peering  through  the  undergrowth. 
Miles  was  astonished  to  see  the  strip  of  wood  suddenly  yield  up 
a  long  line  of  foot-soldiers,  their  bayonets  gleaming  in  the  sunlight 
as  they  dashed  down  the  Kollow. 

"  Kow,  then,"  said  Stanly,  whirling  his  sabre  from  the  scabbard ; 
"gentlemen,  the  general  wants  yonder  battery.  Let  us  get  it  for 
him.     Here  comes  Green  at  a  gallop  !     Draw,  boys,  and  follow !" 

A  roar  of  cheers  burst  from  the  troopers  as  they  plunged  through 
the  gap  in  the  fence,  answered  by  a  terrific  yell  from  the  infantry 
racing  across  the  Hollow ;  answered  by  the  rattle  of  musquetry  from 
the  base  of  the  hill  crowned  by  the  battery ;  answered  by  the  shower 
of  grape-shot  that  tore  through  their  ranks  and  emptied  their  sad- 
dles, until  Miles,  fiiscinated,  saw  Stanly  leap  his  horse  over  the  low 
earthworks,  and  heard  the  ringing  steel,  as  a  hundred  sabres  clashed 
with  the  bayonets  of  the  footmen.  In  another  moment  the  Confed- 
erate infantry  rushed,  panting,  into  the  conflict,  while  the  remnant 
of  the  cavalry  urged  their  horses  up  the  hill,  into  the  very  mouths 
of  the  cannon,  which  were  belching  out  death  at  every  step  of  their 
mad  career. 

Years  afterwards  ISIiles  recalled  that  horrible  scene,  and  the 
prominent  picture  engraved  upon  his  memory  was  the  copper-coloured 
gun,  the  blue  smoke  curling  from  its  muzzle,  the  begrimed  fiice  of 
the  gunner  as  he  went  down  under  the  stroke  of  Stanly's  sabre  the 
instant  before  that  gallant  cavalier  rolled  out  of  his  saddle,  and  while 
the  hoarse  shout  of  victory  resounded  on  the  hillside. 

Miles  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  fallen  soldier  and  took  his  hand. 

"Are  you  hurt,  sir?"  said  Stanly. 

"  No.     But  you  are." 

"  Yes.  I  caught  a  bayonet  in  my  thigh  as  I  crossed  the  ditch. 
And  I  think  I  have  a  bullet  in  my  body.  Something  struck  me 
just  as  I  cut  that  poor  fellow  down.  Could  you  get  a  drop  of 
water?" 

Miles  looked  around  him.   The  dead  artilleryman  was  lying  prone 


86  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

upon  his  face  by  the  wheel  of  his  gun.  There  was  a  tin  cup  tied  to 
his  belt.  Miles  cut  the  strap,  and  went  down  the  hill,  at  whose  foot 
a  little  stream  trickled  through  the  grass.  He  dipped  up  a  cupful 
of  the  water,  and  finding  it  mixed  with  red,  he  dashed  it  down  in 
disgust.  He  thought  of  Annot's  horror  of  battle  and  bloodshedding, 
and  wondered  what  fiend  had  tempted  him  to  look  upon  such  ghastly 
scenes.  He  ran  along  the  brook  up-stream,  and  found  a  clear  spot, 
filled  the  cup  and  reclimbed  the  hill.  Stanly  was  propped  up  against 
the  knee  of  a  stranger,  who  was  examining  the  wound  in  his  breast. 
He  looked  up  as  Miles  approached.  A  sturdy  gentleman  with  great, 
kind  eyes,  now  full  of  sympathy.  A  brown  beard  covering  his 
face,  and  a  thoughtful  air  all  over  him. 

"  Let  me  add  a  little  to  your  cup,"  said  the  stranger,  producing 
a  flask ;  "  your  friend  is  hit  hard." 

"  The  doctor,"  thought  Miles,  giving  the  drink  to  Stanly.  The 
frown  was  gone  from  his  brow,  and  there  was  a  pleasant  smile  on 
his  lips. 

"  Many  thanks,  gentlemen,"  he  said.  "  Mr.  Miles,  I  have  only  a 
few  minutes  left.     Please  open  my  coat.     Thank  you  !     There  is  a 

ribbon Ah  !  you  have  it !    The  locket.     Take  it  to  her.     Tell 

her  I  stole  it.     Good-bye  !" 

The  stranger  laid  the  body  softly  down  upon  the  grass. 

"  He  was  a  born  warrior !"  he  said.  "  I  saw  him  coming  across 
the  ditch,  and  saw  him  get  his  death-wound.  I — I  saw  something 
like  it  once  before.     At  Balaklava." 

"You  are  a  countryman  !"  said  Miles. 

"  Yes.     For  you  have  the  English  speech." 

"  Is  he  dead,  doctor  ?"  said  Miles,  pitifully. 

"  Quite  dead.  The  femoral  artery  is  cut,  and  a  bullet  is  in  his 
right  lung.  By-the-bye,  I  saw  you  also,  when  you  crossed  the 
ditch,  but  you  were  unarmed.    Was  this  gentleman  your  comrade?" 

"I  never  saw  him  until  last  night.  I  hardly  know  how  I  got 
into  this  mad  gallop.     I  suppose  my  horse  bolted  with  me." 

"  Yes.  And  you  drove  your  spurs  into  his  sides  as  you  leaped 
the  breastwork,"  answered  the  stranger,  dryly. 

"I  was  riding  by  Stanly,"  muttered  Miles,  confusedly,  "and 
somehow  I  felt  that  his  enemies  were  mine.  But  I  have  enough  of 
this.  AVhat  a  horrible  sight,  doctor!  Here  are  a  score  of  dead  men, 
who  were  alive  ten  minutes  ago.  Poor  Stanly !  How  can  I  tell 
her !" 

"  Her  r  said  the  other.     "  Had  he  a  wife  ?" 


rut:   BATTLE.    .  87 

"  No.  I  do  not  know  certainly,  but  it  is  probable  that  a  foir  girl's 
life  will  be  darkened  by  this  sad  event.     Can  1  do  anything?" 

"Nothing,  I  fancy.  Yonder  is  the  surgeon.  I  am  not  a  doctor, 
only  a  volunteer  hospital  steward.  The  tight  is  over.  Did  you  ever 
heiir  of  anything  so  mad  lus  that  charge  upon  the  battery?  If  I  had 
been  in  command  on  this  hill,  I  should  have  swept  those  fellows 
from  the  face  of  the  earth  !  It  was  the  utter  insanity  of  the  attempt 
that  gained  the  success." 

"  Were  you  on  the  hill?"  asked  Miles,  feeling  a  little  antagonism 
arising  in  liis  mind.  Without  knowing  it,  he  had  become  decidedly 
partisan. 

"  About  the  same  time  you  arrived,"  replied  the  other,  coolly. 
"  I  came  with  the  infantry  from  the  M'ood  yonder.  How  now, 
Tom  ?"  he  continued,  as  a  foot-soldier  limped  up.     "  What  is  it?" 

"  The  doctor  wants  you,  Mister  Boston,"  said  the  soldier.  "  Goin' 
to  cut  off  Blake's  leg!  Say,  mister!"  addressing  Miles,  "hadn't 
you  better  come  outen  that  hat  ?" 

Miles  started  as  he  recognised  the  sentry  who  had  given  the  same 
advice  on  the  previous  afternoon,  and  who  had  protested  against  the 
title  of  "  Tar-heel." 

"Ah,  my  friend!"  replied  Miles,  "  I  am  happy  to  see  you  again. 
You  have  had  some  rough  work  on  hand  since  we  parted." 

"  Yaas !"  replied  the  soldier ;  "  it  was  rayther  lively  comin'  through 
that  Hollow.  Them  woods  ain't  half  a  mile  off,  but  I'll  be  dogon'd 
if  it  wa'n't  six  mile  when  we  come  through  on  the  double-quick !" 

"  Was  the  gentleman — Mr.  Boston,  you  called  him — was  he  with 
you  ?" 

"  Reckon  he  was.  No  call  to  be  thar,  neither.  The  cap'n  allowed 
he  must  stay  in  the  woods.  But  he  allowed  some  of  the  boys  mout 
want  him,  so  he  just  trotted  along  with  us.  Many  a  time  when  one 
of  our  fellers  was  just  turnin'  his  toes  up,  Mr.  Boston  has  knelt  down 
by  him  to  git  a  message  or  talk  some  religion.  He  can  saw  off  a 
feller's  leg  as  good  as  the  doctor,  and  he  can  preach  as  good  as  the 
parson." 

"  He  does  not  belong  to  your  side,"  said  Miles — "  that  is,  he  was 
not  born  in  your  country." 

"  No.  I  suppose  he  was  horned  a  Yank,  as  his  name  is  Boston. 
But  he  could  not  help  that,  could  he?  Anyway,  he  is  true  grit. 
Hello!  who  is  this?  Jim  Stanly,  and  dead  as  a  hammer!  Oh, 
heavenly  Marster !" 

And  the  rough  soldier  fell  on  his  knees  by  the  body,  covered  his 


88  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

grim  countenance  with  his  hands,  while  the  tears  trickled  between 
his  fingers. 

"  Oh,  Jim !"  said  the  soldier,  between  the  sobs  that  burst  from 
him,  "  if  I  only  knowed  the  man  that  done  this,  I'd  have  his  life  if 
I  followed  him  to  the  gates  of  hell !" 

"  My  friend,"  said  Miles,  deeply  touched  by  the  other's  distress, 
"be  comforted.  Captain  Stanly  fell,  sword  in  hand,  at  the  head  of 
his  regiment.  He  did  not  suffer  half  an  hour.  And  he  lived  long 
enough  to  send  his  last  messages  to  those  he  loved." 

"  Did  he  mention  me — Bill  Hardy  ?"  said  the  soldier. 

"  Not  to  me.  Mr.  Boston  was  with  him,  while  I  went  to  the  rill 
for  some  water.  He  only  lived  a  few  minutes  after  I  got  back. 
What  does  the  trumpet  mean  ?" 

"The  recall.  We've  won  this  skrimmage,  but  we've  paid  an 
awful  price  for  it.     Here  comes  the  old  man." 

And  he  arose,  caught  up  his  gun,  and  stood  erect  and  stern,  pre- 
senting arms  as  General  Smith,  followed  by  his  staff,  rode  down  the 
hill. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Miles,"  said  the  general.  "  This  is  a  sad 
blow.  Poor  Stanly  !  Hardy,  get  three  more  men  and  take  his  body 
to  Dale's  Manor." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
Robbery. 

THE  fight  referred  to  in  the  previous  chapter  occurred  on  the 
border  of  East  Tennessee.  The  forces  engaged  were  very 
nearly  equal,  the  Federal  army  having  a  battery  of  six  guns  and 
their  adversaries  a  cav^alry  regiment.  It  was  a  small  affair,  not 
more  than  six  or  eight  thousand  men  in  both  forces,  and  was  im- 
portant so  far  as  it  checked  the  Federal  advance,  and  chiefly  because 
of  the  capture  of  the  artillery. 

Miles  rode  back  to  Dale's  Manor,  while  Hardy  and  his  comrades 
were  constructing  the  rude  bier  to  convey  Captain  Stanly's  body  to 
the  cemetery.  It  was  a  little  church-yard  on  the  border  of  the  estate. 
When  he  reached  the  gate,  and  while  he  was  debating  the  question 
as  to  how  he  should  break  the  sad  news,  he  was  startled  to  hear  a 
pistol-shot  and  a  scream  for  help,  evidently  coming  from  the  house. 
He  dashed  the  gate  open,  and  gallopped  to  the  verandah.     There 


ROBBERY.  89 

were  three  liorscs,  with  fragments  of  harness  hanging  abput  them, 
fastened  to  posts  near  the  door.  Tlien  he  remembered  seeing  two 
or  three  artillerymen  striving  to  carry  oft'  one  of  the  guns  on  the 
hill,  and  when  the  impetuous  charge  of  the  cavalry  made  this  impos- 
sible, they  cut  the  traces  and  rode  down  the  hill  on  the  opposite  side. 
He  threw  himself  from  the  saddle  and  rushed  into  the  drawing-room. 

Mr.  Dale  was  on  the  tloor,  a  soldier  stooping  over  him,  with  pistol 
in  hand  still  smoking.  Miss  Dale  was  on  the  sofa,  one  soldier  hold- 
ing her  down,  while  the  third  was  tearing  her  watch  from  her  neck. 
The  look  of  horror,  mingled  with  eager  expectation  on  her  face, 
brought  him  to  her  side  at  a  bound.  He  cauglit  up  a  water-pitcher 
from  the  table,  and  dashed  it  to  fragments  on  the  head  of  the  nearest 
soldier.  The  other  released  Miss  Dale  and  half  drew  his  sabre,  but 
Miles  was  upon  him,  throttling  him  before  it  left  the  scabbard.  In 
the  fierce  struggle  his  spur  caught  in  the  carpet  and  he  lost  his 
balance,  and  as  he  fell  there  was  another  pistol-shot,  and  he  rolled 
over  unconscious. 

When  General  Smith,  followed  by  a  dozen  officers,  rode  into  the 
grounds  at  Dale's  ^lanor,  he  was  surprised  to  see  three  blue-coated 
soldiers  gallopping  down  towards  the  stables,  somewhat  encumbered 
with  baggage.  AVHien  these  last-mentioned  gentlemen  reached  the 
stables  and  found  a  high  picket-fence  between  them  and  the  woods, 
they  dropped  their  baggage  in  the  bushes,  slipped  from  their  saddles, 
and  began  to  climb  this  formidable  obstacle.  And  when  each  of 
them  felt  the  points  of  three  sabres  penetrating  his  nether  extremi- 
ties, each  one  dropped  on  the  ground,  surrendering  at  discretion  and 
howling  with  pain. 

"  Bring  them  to  the  house,  Green,"  said  the  general ;  "  tie  them 
up  securely,  and  let  us  see  what  they  have  done." 

The  scene  in  the  drawing-room  was  appalling.  Annot  Dale  ap- 
parently lifeless  on  the  sofa,  and  two  apparently  dead  men  on  the 
floor.  Toby  crept  valiantly  from  under  the  verandah  as  soon  as 
the  marauders  were  securely  bound,  and  summoned  the  servant-girl 
from  the  kitchen.  Miss  Dale  was  gradually  restored  to  conscious- 
ness, and  was  able  to  give  a  coherent  account  of  the  matter.  The 
three  men  had  ridden  up  to  the  verandah,  dismounted,  and  seeing  her 
and  Mr.  Dale  through  the  open  w^indow,  had  entered  the  drawing- 
room.  They  asked  for  whiskey,  and  her  father  replied  saying  there 
was  none  in  the  house.  One  of  them  then  demanded  money,  and 
jNIr.  Dale  asked  him  "  if  he  was  a  soldier  or  a  robber?"  The  soldier 
struck  him,  and  her  father  seized  a  chair,  and  as  he  raised  it  the 


90  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

soldier  drew  his  pistol  and  shot  him.  At  the  same  moment  the  other 
two  seized  her.  Then  Mr.  Miles  rushed  in  and  grappled  one  of  the 
soldiers,  and  while  struggling  w'ith  him  was  shot  also.  This  was 
all  she  knew  until  they  aroused  her  from  her  swoon. 

The  measured  tread  of  the  soldiers  bearing  the  body  of  Captain 
Stanly  interrupted  her  recital,  and  while  they  paused  upon  the  lawn, 
]\Ir.  Boston  entered  the  crowded  apartments.  He  seemed  to  take  in 
the  situation  at  a  glance,  and,  kneeling  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Dale,  care- 
fully examined  his  wound.  Then  crossing  the  room,  he  examined 
the  prostrate  body  of  Miles. 

"General,"  he  said,  rising  from  the  last  investigation,  "these 
gentlemen  should  have  prompt  medical  attendance." 

"  Is  there  any  hope  ?"  whispered  the  general. 

"  Hope !"  replied  the  other,  aloud ;  "  certainly  !  Neither  is  fatally 
injured.     If  you  will  send  for  the  surgeon " 

"  Mount  my  horse,  Bascombe ;  he  will  take  you  over  fences,"  said 
the  general.  "  You  will  find  Doctor  Nicholls  at  the  school-house. 
My  compliments — and  request  him  to  come  instantly.  Miss  Dale, 
\fe  will  carry  your  father  up-stairs.     Be  hopeful." 

She  had  caught  the  arm  of  the  last  comer,  and  was  trying  to  see 
into  his  soul  through  his  frank  blue  eyes. 

"  Be  hopeful,  madam,"  he  repeated ;  '^  I  would  not  say  so  if  I 
doubted.  It  were  hideous  cruelty  to  deceive  you  with  false  hopes. 
Your  father's  case  is  not  at  all  desperate." 

"And  Mr.  Miles?"  she  said,  pointing  over  her  shoulder. 

"  His  hurt  is  even  less  serious.  The  bullet  has  cut  some  locks  of 
hair,  but  I  think  the  bone  is  untouched.  In  an  hour  we  shall  have 
a  professional  opinion.  I  have  seen  many  worse  cases  than  these 
recover  very  rapidly.  This  gentleman  is  recovering  consciousness 
even  now." 

Two  or  three  men  raised  Miles  from  the  carpet,  and  propped  him 
up  on  the  sofa.  He  gazed  around  the  room  with  a  perplexed  coun- 
tenance. The  general,  assisted  by  Captain  Green,  was  carrying  ]\Ir. 
Dale  into  the  hall,  his  daughter  holding  his  nerveless  hand  in  hers. 

"It  is  Annie,  bonny  Annie  Laurie!"  said  Miles,  attempting  to 
rise.     "  The  brute  is  actually  holding  her !     Kill !  kill !" 

'■'  This  is  a  favourable  symptom,"  observed  Mr.  Boston,  quitting 
her  side.  "  So  long  as  men  desire  to  fight,  the  chances  are  on  their 
side.     Let  us  take  Mr.  Miles  to  his  room  also." 

"  Fust  door  at  top  of  de  sta'rs,"  said  Toby.  "  Ef  I  had  been 
heah  when  dem  robbers  come,  I'd  a  made  sure  of  a  couple  of  'em ! 


ROBBERY.  91 

Door  on  de  right,  sah  !  And,  Mtvssa  Doctor !  you'd  best  come  down 
sta'rs  ag'in.  De  sogers  done  begun  to  search  de  pockets  of  dera 
robbers.  ^lebbe  you'd  best  see  what  dey  find  !  I  seed  Miss  Annie's 
watch-chain.  All  deni  sogers  alike!  Dey  all  steal  chickens.  'Spec' 
dey  all  steal  watches  too !" 

*'  Hardy,"  said  General  Smith,  "  give  Mr.  Boston  whatever  valu- 
ables you  find.  Will  you  please  take  charge,  sir?  I  will  come 
down  in  a  niiinite  or  two." 

Mr.  Boston  found  the  three  prisoners  on  the  grass,  their  arms  tied 
behind  their  backs.  The  North  Carolina  warrior  was  kneeling  by 
the  side  of  one  of  them,  and  industriously  emptying  his  pockets. 
Close  by  the  ])rostrate  robbers  was  the  rude  litter  of  boughs,  upon 
which  the  body  of  Captain  Stanly  reposed  in  sombre  silence.  Three 
or  four  soldiers  stood  by  the  litter,  waiting  for  orders  to  take  up  the 
burden  and  resume  their  march  to  the  church-yard.  There  was  a 
little  heap  of  spoons  and  forks,  three  gold  watches  with  chains  on 
the  green  lawn.  One  chain  of  delicate  workmanship  was  strung 
out  like  a  golden  thread,  and  upon  this  Toby  pounced  instanter. 

"  Dis  Miss  Annie's  watch,  sah  !"  he  said,  lianding  it  to  Mr.  Bos- 
ton. •  "  Dat  b'long  to  ]Mass'  Dale.  Dis  is  ISIister  Mileses.  I  seed 
him  windin'  it  dis  mornin'.  He  jest  screw  de  handle  round.  Don't 
hab  no  key.  Dem  spoons  and  forks  all  ourn.  Dey  done  stole  five 
times  more.     Sarch  de  boots,  cap !" 

"  Seems  to  me  you're  running  this  business,  Mister  Nigger !"  said 
Hardy,  discontentedly.  "  Say  !  Yank  !  turn  over  !  I  want  t'other 
pocket." 

"  Nauthin'  in  t'other  pocket,"  growled  the  prisoner,  "  'cept  my 
knife." 

"  Well,  dogon  your  trifling  picter,  I  want  the  knife  !     Turn  over  !" 

The  soldier  groaned  as  he  turned.  The  sabres  of  his  captors  had 
scarified  his  legs. 

"  AVhat  sort  of  meat  do  you  cut  with  this  knife?"  said  Hardy, 
drawing  out  a  gold  locket  suspended  by  a  blue  ribbon.  "  This  looks 
like  another  watch.  Blood  on  the  ribbon,  too.  Say,  Cuffee  !  whose 
is  this?" 

"  Dun'no  !"  answered  Toby.  "  You  may  swar  it  was  stole,  any- 
how.    Sogers  don't  go  ridin'  round  wid  dem  things  in  de  pocket." 

"Whose  is  it,  Yank?"  asked  -Hardy.  "Dogon  the  thing!  it 
won't  open !" 

"Give  it  me.  Hardy,"  said  Mr.  Boston.  "I  think  I  know  the 
owner.     You  took  it  from  Mr.  Miles,  friend,  did  you  not  ?" 


92  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Don't  know  ary  Mr.  Miles,"  replied  the  prisoner. 

"The  gentleman  who  arrived  while  you  were  robbing  the  lady," 
said  Mr.  Boston,  composedly;  "the  one  you  shot  last." 

"  Didn't  shoot  nobody,"  retorted  the  soldier ;  "  never  drawed  ray 
pop  at  all.  The  man  you  mean  smashed  my  head  with  a  pitcher, 
dern  him!     I  found  the  watch  on  the  floor." 

"  Here's  some  more  forks,  Sambo !"  said  Hardy.  "  How  many 
forks  does  your  master  own,  anyway?" 

"  Nebber  counted,"  replied  Toby.  "  An'  my  name's  not  Sambo, 
nor  Cuffee  neither.     Aint  got  no  mars'r,  neither." 

"  Hello !"  said  Hardy,  turning  the  prostrate  soldier's  pocket  inside- 
out;  "look  here!  gold  and  silver!  Say,  Yank  !  have  you  been  in 
the  mining  business  ?" 

"  Dat  b'longs  to  Mr.  Miles  too,"  said  Toby ;  "  he  done  gib  me  one 
of  dem  silver  pieces  when  he  got  his  breakfus'.  Dese  cavaltry  sogers 
beats  de  debble  for  stealin' !  You  see  dey  can  tote  more.  No  gold 
or  silver  in  dis  house  for  sartin.  Mr.  Dale  done  sent  all  he  had  to 
Charleston." 

"  It  must  be  as  he  says,"  observed  Mr.  Boston  ;  "  these  are  all 
English  coins,  and  Mr.  Miles  came  from  England." 

"  Guess  he  won't  go  back  !"  growled  the  prisoner.  "  Dern  him  ! 
He  can't  walk  around  loose  with  a  ball  in  his  skull." 

"  These  were  his  coins  ?"  said  Mr.  Boston. 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  answered  the  other.  "  There,  Johnny  E,eb !  you've 
skun  me  out  purty  clean.  Give  me  a  chaw  of  that  tobaccer,  will 
you  ?" 

"  Can't  waste  tobaccer  on  you,  Yank,"  replied  Hardy,  biting  off 
a  piece  as  he  spoke.     "  Mighty  scaase  in  these  parts." 

"  It's  my  own  tobaccer,  dern  you  !" 

"  Yes ;  and  I  reckon  these  spoons  and  forks  was  your  own,  too. 
But  they  are  all  confisticated,  you  see." 

General  Smith  appeared  upon  the  verandah,  followed  by  the 
officers  who  had  carried  the  wounded  gentlemen  to  their  rooms. 
The  body  of  Stanly  was  once  more  raised  from  the  ground,  and 
the  procession  moved  out  the  west  gate.  The  spire  of  the  little 
church  was  visible  over  the  treetops,  and  the  church-yard  was  soon 
reached.  A  squad  of  soldiers  had  been  despatched  to  this  spot  im- 
mediately after  the  battle,  and  had  already  dug  the  grave,  and  had 
constructed  a  rude  coffin,  into  which  the  body  was  placed.  Mr. 
Boston  read  the  burial  service,  and  the  sad  ceremonies  were  soon 
over. 


ROBBERY.  93 

As  they  returned  to  Dale's  Manor,  General  Smith  walked  apart 
with  Mr.  Boston. 

"  My  friend,"  Siiid  tlic  general,  "  is  it  your  intention  to  return  to 
England,  as  you  said  last  night?" 

"  Yes.     I  must  go  to  Charleston  first,  and  then  try  for  home." 

"  We  shall  miss  you.  I  thought  your  heart  was  in  our  cause  at 
first,  but  I  have  discovered  that  all  your  sacrifices  of  comfort  have 
been  made  only  in  the  general  cause  of  humanity.  You  have 
stricken  no  blow  on  our  side." 

"  Xor  on  the  other.  You  will  join  the  main  array  in  a  few  days, 
general,  and  my  services  will  be  less  needed.  But  a  voice  is  calling 
me  out  yonder  in  the  far  East,  and  go  I  must !" 

"  A  female  voice  ?"  asked  the  general,  slyly. 

"  Ha !"  said  the  other,  with  a  whimsical  face,  "  how  can  one 
distinguish  at  such  a  distance  !  But  it  seems  to  say  *  Come !'  and, 
by  the  Three  Kings,  I  would  ride  over  ten  such  batteries  as  that 
you  took  so  gallantly  to-<]ay  to  obey  the  mandate." 

"  What  a  shame  it  is,"  said  the  general,  looking  into  the  daunt- 
less eyes  of  his  interlocutor,  "  that  a  fellow  of  such  stuff  as  you  are 
made  of  should  be  a  mere  civilian  !" 

"  Well,"  said  the  other,  sheepishly,  "  I  have  done  a  little  soldier- 
ing in  my  time." 

"  Not  here,  surely  !" 

"  Xo.  Over  there.  Beyond  the  sea.  It  is  a  very  unsatisfactory 
occupation,  and  I'll  nonje  of  it,  unleas,  indeed,  England  should  call 
me  again.  But  I  thought  of  staying  a  day  or  two  here,  until  my 
countryman  is  better.  Don't  you  think  there  is  some  soldier  stuff 
in  him,  too?     I  mean  Mr.  Miles." 

"  He  is  a  hero !"  responded  the  general ;  "  and  this  reminds  me. 
I  think — or  at  least,  Green  says  he  thinks,  that  poor  Stanly  was 
pledged  to  Miss  Dale.  I  passed  through  Dale's  Manor  with  his 
body,  because  I  fancied  she  might  desire  to  be  present  at  his  burial. 
But  it  is  possible  that  the  shock  of  this  murderous  assault  and  the 
dangerous  condition  of  her  father  would  make  the  present  an  in- 
opportune time  to  tell  her  of  Stanly's  death.  Will  you  please 
break  it  to  her  ?" 

"  Perha{)s.  But  Mr.  Miles  received  his  last  words.  Better  wait 
until  he  recovers." 

"  Well,  take  charge  of  the  matter.  And  now,  good-bye.  Here 
comes  Bascombe  with  Dr.  NichoUs,  and  I  can  get  my  horse.  To- 
night my  command  moves.     I  must  ride  over  to  my  quarters  and 


94  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

prepare  for  the  march.  Ah,  Mr.  Bascombe,  you  will  have  to  walk 
back.  My  compliments  to  Captain  Green,  and  request  him  to  re- 
port at  once  at  headquarters  with  his  command  and  prisoners. 
Doctor,  please  leave  your  instructions  with  Mr.  Boston." 

The  grounds  of  Dale's  !Manor  were  cleared  before  the  sun  disap- 
peared behind  the  church  spire.  The  doctor  promised  speedy  re- 
covery to  Mr.  Dale.  Mr.  Miles  would  be  better  to-morrow.  Miss 
Dale  had  retired  for  the  night,  leaving  ]\Ir.  Boston  in  charge  of  both 
patients,  under  Doctor  Nicholls's  orders. 

Mr.  Dale  slept  fitfully.  Once  in  the  night  he  called  "  Annot"  in 
a  dreamy  voice.     Mr.  Boston  leaned  over  him  and  listened. 

"  Annot !"  said  Mr.  Dale. 

"  What  will  you  have,  sir  ?"  whispered  Mr.  Boston. 

"  They  have  not  found  everj-thing.  I  have  the  silver,  but  the 
picture  is  gone !" 

"  What  picture  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  know  ?     Yours,  mine,  ours." 

"  Be  patient.     It  will  be  found." 

"  In  the  locket,  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Dale,  dozing  again — "  I 
mean  the  Clifton  Picture." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
Annie  Laurie. 

ON  the  day  after  the  battle  the  sun  arose  upon  the  Long  Hollow, 
where  all  was  calm  and  peaceful.  A  long  mound  crossed  the 
valley  at  the  hill-foot.  Yesterday  it  was  the  breastwork  over  which 
the  cavalry  had  charged.  To-day  it  was  merely  the  same  soil  re- 
turned to  the  ditch,  but  covering  the  mortal  remains  of  three  hundred 
men.  The  war  had  spread  out  its  crimson  skirts  to  that  remote 
corner,  and  drifted  away  again  towards  the  sea-coast,  leaving  the 
mound  as  a  memorial  of  its  visit.  Victors  and  vanquished  had 
disappeared  in  the  night,  and  bountiful  nature  soon  spread  her  green 
mantle  over  the  long  ridge,  the  grass  taking  brighter  hues  and  more 
vigourous  growth  from  the  festering  mass  beneath. 

Mr.  Dale  recovered  rapidly.  On  the  second  day  he  was  well 
enough  to  hold  long  consultations  with  Mr.  Boston,  whom  he  entirely 
monopolized.     Mr.  Miles  was  feverish  and  required  more  nursing, 


ANNIE  LAURIE.  95 

and  Miss  Dale  divideil  her  attentions  between  her  father  and  their 
guest,  giving  tlie  hitter  the  larger  moiety  lus  her  father  improved, 
yiie  was  at  Mr.  Dale's  bedside  at  nightfall,  when  Toby  put  his  black 
head  in  at  the  door  and  beckoned  her  out.  Toby  was  major  domo, 
literally,  since  the  day  of  the  battle,  and  he  felt  the  pressure  of  the 
household  cares.  His  hair  curled  more  crisply.  The  "  whites"  of 
his  eyes  dilated,  and  he  moved  about  the  mansion  with  a  solemn 
dignity  that  struck  awe  into  the  bosom  of  " 'Manda,"  the  cook  and 
housemaid,  whom  he  dominated  with  stern  authority. 

"  He  done  call  for  you.  Miss  Annie,"  whispered  Toby,  as  she 
passed  into  the  hall,  "  and  I  reckon  he's  outen  his  head  ag'in.  If  you 
will  please  watch  him  a  minute,  I'll  go  down  to  de  spring  and  git 
some  cool  water." 

"  Better  send  Amanda,  Toby,"  said  Miss  Dale ;  "  I  might  need 
you." 

"  Werry  well,  misse ;  only  'Manda  sich  a  goose,  she's  afeared  ob 
her  shadder." 

"  Well,  go  yourself,  then,  Toby,  and  tell  Amanda  to  remain  within 
call." 

Miles  was  lying  with  his  face  to  the  window.  He  put  out  his 
hand  as  she  approached,  and  she  noted  the  brightness  of  his  eyes 
and  the  faint  flush  on  his  forehead. 

"  Forgive  me  for  calling,"  he  said,  his  face  full  of  perplexity, 
"  but  how  am  I  ever  to  tell  her?" 

"  Tell  whom  ?"     He  lay  quiet  several  minutes,  meditating. 

"Annie  Laurie!  Bonny  Annie  Laurie!  'I'd  lay  me  down  and 
die.'  And  that  is  just  what  he  did.  She  wouldn't  sing  it,  you 
know  !     Heavens  !     She'll  never  sing  it  again  !" 

"  Shall  I  sing  for  you?"  she  said. 

"  Aye  !     But  you  cannot  sing  that.,  you  know." 

"  I  will  sing  anything  you  prefer " 

"  England  expects  that  every  man,  this  day — certainly  !  England 
is  right !     What  is  on  my  head  ?" 

"  Only  a  napkin.     I  will  have  some  cold  water  presently." 

"  I  swear  to  you,"  he  broke  out,  earnestly,  "  I  stuck  by  his  side 
through  it  all !  It  was  a  gallop  into  the  very  jaws  of  Tophet ! 
Great  sheets  of  sulphurous  flame  and  a  hail  of  bullets!  But 
where  he  rode  I  rode.  When  he  leaped  into  a  forest  of  sharp 
steel  I  leaped  also,  and  I  had  not  so  much  as  a  riding-whip  in  my 
hand!"  6         r  / 

She  turned  to  see  who  entered  the  room.     It  was  Mr.  Boston. 


96  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Tell  her  countryman,"  continued  Miles,  "  I  never  drew  back 
an  inch.  And  he  died  with  his  hand  in  mine.  But  how  the  devil 
can  I  tell  her !" 

"  No  matter  now,"  answered  Mr.  Boston,  gently,  "  you  shall  tell 
her  anon.  I  saw  you  ride.  Here,  let  me  moisten  your  napkin  again 
and  bind  it  on  your  head.  Ah,  this  is  cool !  Toby,  give  me  a  glass. 
Drink  a  little,  Mr.  Miles." 

"  She  cannot  sing  that,  you  know,"  observed  Miles,  confidently, 
after  drinking.  "  She  will  never  sing  it  again.  I  did  not  know  how 
I  loved  her  until  I  thought  of  that !  I  did  not  know  how  much 
agony  I  could  endure  until  I  undertook  this  task !" 

The  shadows  grew  deeper,  and  there  was  a  long  interval  of  silence. 
Mr.  Boston  stole  out,  leaving  Annot.  Toby,  on  velvet  feet,  brought 
a  candle  into  the  hall,  and  then  dropping  into  a  tangled  bundle 
of  legs  and  arms,  fell  asleep  in  the  corner.  Annot  sat  and  mused 
upon  the  incoherent  ravings  of  the  patient,  endeavoring  to  find  some 
clue  to  his  meaning,  when  he  suddenly  whispered — 

"  It  is  not  her  real  name,  you  know.  It  is  Annot  Dale !  And 
Miles  is  not  my  real  name  either.  Everything  is  changed.  Oh ! 
why  did  not  a  bullet  find  me  as  I  rode  through  that  infernal  storm  ? 
Me  instead  of  him  ?  Better  for  Bonny  Annie  Laurie ;  better  for 
Hyland,  and  far  better  for  me !  She  can  never  sing  that  again ! 
And  she  would  not  sing  it  for  me  !     Certainly  not !" 

A  blaze  of  light  broke  upon  the  girl's  mind.  She  had  found  the 
clue ! 

As  she  sat  there  in  the  darkness,  recalling  the  events  of  the  past 
few  days,  she  remembered  the  scraps  of  conversation  she  had  over- 
heard between  the  young  cavalry  subalterns  when  they  carried  the 
wounded  stranger  up-stairs.  They  spoke  of  some  one  who  rode 
unarmed  at  the  head  of  the  column  as  having  a  charmed  life.  She 
thought  at  the  time  they  were  speaking  of  Mr.  Boston,  as  she  had 
heard  of  his  reckless  exposure  of  himself  on  other  occasions.  She 
now  recognised  Miles  as  the  "  Mad  Britisher." 

Then  she  recalled  the  short  colloquy  at  the  date  of  his  arrival, 
when  Stanly  requested  her  not  to  sing  '•  Annie  Laurie."  And  she 
remembered  that  the  guest  had  asked  for  the  song  once  and  again 
during  the  evening,  with  a  certain  polite  persistence.  When  she 
arose  the  next  morning  she  had  said,  "I  will  sing  'Annie  Laurie' 
for  Mr.  Miles  to-day."  There  had  been  a  long  and  interesting  con- 
versation the  night  before  between  him  and  her  father,  in  which  she 
occasionally  took  part,  and  she  felt  well  acquainted  with  the  new- 


ANNIE  LAURIE.  97 

comer,  chiefly  because  he  was  a  countrvinan,  hut  also,  because,  with 
her  quick  perception,  she  had  detected  many  traits  of  the  man's 
character,  enlisting  her  symjiathy  and  awakeninjz;  her  admiration. 
She  was  greatly  disa|)pointed  when  Toby  announced  his  departure 
"to  see  <le  scrimmage."  She  had  no  sympathy  with  "scrimmages," 
and  could  not  account  for  the  man's  desire  to  look  upon  the  revolting 
scenes  of  the  battle-field.  During  the  morning  she  had  been  stunned 
by  the  incessant  roar  of  heavy  guns,  and  was  constantly  oppressed 
with  a  vague  dread  of  impending  horrors.  The  arrival  of  the 
marauders,  the  injury  to  her  father,  the  rude  grasp  of  the  men  as 
they  tore  at  her  watch-chain,  seemed  like  some  horrible  nightmare, 
until  Miles  burst  into  the  room,  with  glowing  eyes,  and  cast  himself 
upon  her  captors.  She  saw  tiie  soldier  who  bestrode  her  father's 
body  raise  his  pistol  and  shoot  her  defender,  only  a  yard  or  two 
distant,  and  her  quick  eyes  perceived  that  the  accidental  entangle- 
ment of  his  spur  saved  his  life ;  for  he  was  falling  when  the 
soldier  fired,  and  the  bullet  shattered  a  mirror  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room.  Then  came  oblivion,  until  General  Smith  stood 
over  her. 

After  this  she  could  only  recall  disconnected  ravings.  Miles 
eagerly  assuring  her  that  he  had  dared  everything  for  "Bonny 
Annie  Laurie."  lie  had  ridden  by  the  side  of  some  one  for  her 
sake  througii  nameless  perils.     Who  was  it? 

"  Stanly !" 

She  remembered  now  that  the  officers  spoke  in  whispers  when 
they  spoke  of  Stanly.  He  was  not  among  them.  There  had  been 
a  burial  service  at  the  church.  Mr.  Boston  had  borrowed  her  Prayer- 
book  !  It  was  clear.  Stanly  was  dead.  And  while  she  recalled 
the  gay  countenance  of  the  gallant  young  soldier  at  their  last  part- 
ing, she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  wept. 

The  tears  were  beneficent.  Her  mind  worked  more  coherently 
after  the  "  good  cry." 

Now  there  were  subsequent  perplexities.  Somehow,  Mr.  Miles 
had  confused  her  name  with  Annie  Laurie's  name.  So  when  he 
spoke  in  his  delirium  of  Annie  Laurie,  he  meant  Annot  Dale.  In- 
deed, he  had  said  so.  But  why  did  he  constantly  refer  to  the  song? 
"NVhy  did  he  assert  so  vehemently  that  some  one — "she" — would 
never  sing  it  again  ? 

She  heard  the  murmur  of  voices  at  the  other  end  of  the  hall,  as 
her  father  and  Mr.  Boston  conversed.  She  heard  the  regular  breath- 
ing of  her  patient,  who  had  fallen  into  quiet  slumber;  and,  under- 

7 


98  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

lying  all  other  sounds,  and  sustaining  them  as  a  rich  bass  upholds 
the  melody  of  the  sojirano,  she  heard  Toby's  diapason,  as  he  awoke 
the  echoes  with  his  prodigious  snore. 

Ah  !     Is  this  the  mode  of  egress  from  the  labyrinth  ? 

Stanly  had  requested  her  not  to  sing  until  his  return.  And  he 
would  never  return  !  That  explained  the  stranger's  reiterated  as- 
surance. And  he  had  inferred,  or  perhaps  Captain  Stanly  had  told 
him 

Told  him  Avhat  ? 

Only  this :  a  week  ago  Stanly  was  at  Dale's  Manor,  and  had 
startled  her  by  saying,  "  Miss  Dale,  when  this  cruel  war  is  over,  I 
am  o^oins:  to  ask  the  dearest  woman  in  the  Avorld  to  be  mv  wife." 
They  were  standing  on  the  verandah  together,  and  Stanly  had  been 
very  poetical.  The  dialogue  was  interrupted  by  her  father's  ap- 
])roach,  and  the  captain  had  no  opportunity  for  renewing  it.  At 
parting  he  pressed  her  hand  very  warmly,  and  with  an  indefinite  air 
of  proprietorship  which  she  resented  at  the  time. 

So  he  had  told  all  this  to  Mr.  Miles,  no  doubt ;  and  j\Ir.  ]\Iiles 
recognised  this  proprietorship  when  she  declined  to  sing  Annie  Lau- 
rie !  And  he  had  been  with  Stanly  when  he  fell,  and  was  charged 
with  a  message  to  her,  which  he  shrank  from  delivering  because — 
because 

AVhy,  he  said,  "  I  did  not  know  how  I  loved  her."  Whom  did 
he  mean  ? 

The  warm  blood  mounted  to  her  cheek  and  forehead  as  she  medi- 
tated. "  Do  not  lay  too  much  stress  upon  the  mutterings  of  fever," 
she  thought.  It  Avas  hardly  possible  that  this  gentleman  could  have 
any  serious  admiration  for  her.  The  date  of  their  first  meeting  was 
too  recent.  She  would  dismiss  the  whole  subject  from  her  thoughts 
until  he  became  sane. 

She  stole  out  into  the  hall  and  caused  Toby's  bass  to  terminate  in 
a  "  shake." 

"  Go  sit  by  Mr.  ^liles,  Toby,"  she  whispered.  "  Don't  go  to  sleep 
until  I  send  Amanda." 

"No,  misse,"  answered  Toby.  "I  kind  o'  forgot  myself  for  a 
minute.  You  see  I  was  flustered  a'  totin'  de  water.  I  run  all  de 
way  to  de  spring  and  back." 

Toby  did  not  explain  that  he  was  horribly  frightened,  seeing 
armed  robbers  in  every  bush  between  the  house  and  the  spring.  He 
did  not  run,  he  flew. 

Mr.  Boston,  half  surgeon  and  half  nurse,  looked  in  upon  Mr. 


ANNIE  LAURIE.  90 

Miles  an  hour  later.  The  lever  had  departed,  and  he  was  sleeping 
protoundly.     Mr.  Dale  was  doinu-  well. 

"Miss  Dale,"  he  said,  "your  fatiier  aiul  I  have  been  arran<;inp: 
for  a  departure.  We  are  all  uoiii<r  to  Charleston  as  soon  as  he  eau 
travel,  whieh  will  he  within  the  week.  Mr.  Miles  will  be  up  to- 
morrow, 1  thinU,  and  probably  ^Ir.  Dale  also.  In  order  to  ensure 
success  to  our  plan,  you  will  please  take  due  care  of  your  own  health, 
and  to  do  that  you  will  please  retire  now.  I  am  going  to  slee[)  on 
this  lounge,  and  should  Mr.  Dale  or  Mr.  Miles  require  attention,  I 
am  a  light  sleei)er,  and  can  watch  over  both.  May  I  say  good 
night  ?" 

"  You  speak  with  so  much  authority,"  she  answered,  smiling,  "  and 
you  tell  me  such  good  news,  that  I  will  obey  without  a  murmur. 
How  kind  you  have  been  to  us,  Mr.  Boston !" 

"  Tut !  tut !  I  am  the  gainer  in  all.  In  our  own  dear  land  we 
shall  know  each  other  better.     My  home  is  in  Devon." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  fiither  is  going  to  England?" 

"  Yes.  Before  the  forest-trees  put  on  their  gay  attire  we  shall  all 
be  in  England  ;  that  is,"  and  he  meditated  a  moment — "  I  must  get 
some  sugar  fii'st." 

"  Sugar !" 

"  Y"es.  I  am  hungry  for  pure  sugar.  I  have  been  on  the  planta- 
tions in  Louisiana,  and  watched  the  process  from  cane-cutting  to 
crystallization.  It  is  good,  but  I  cannot  get  it  out.  I  think  I  must 
go  to  Porto  Rico." 

Annot  took  her  candle  and  went  to  her  chamber,  wondering  if  the 
whimsical  stranger  was  insane,  or  if  he  was  merely  making  game  of 
her.  There  was  an  air  of  such  direct  sincerity  about  him  that  she 
instantly  dismissed  the  latter  pro[)osition. 

She  had  also  dismissed  the  other  Englishman  from  her  thoughts 
for  the  night,  so  she  extinguished  her  candle,  and  drew  her  chair  to 
the  open  window.  The  night  was  delicious.  No  sound  outside  save 
the  whisper  of  the  pines.  No  frightful  guns;  no  tramp  of  armed 
men,  marching  to  death.  England  !  AVas  it  possible  that  she  would 
at  last  get  beyond  the  reach  of  murderous  strife?  How  could  they 
go?  Ah  !  Mr.  Boston  had  douI)tless  arranged  that  they  should  sail 
in  Mr.  Miles 's  ship.  And  so  her  thoughts  went  back  to  Mr.  Miles 
again. 

Annot  did  not  like  fighters.  If  Stanly  had  come  to  her  in  civil- 
ian's garb,  deprecating  war,  and  had  courted  her  in  gentle  fashion,  he 
might  have  won  her.     But  he  came  at  first  with  his  sabre  clanking 


100  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

against  his  boot — ferocious.  She  was  more  easily  attracted  to  the 
blockade-runner,  because  he  wore  no  military  equipments,  and  seemed 
a  man  of  peace.  But  he  had  delil)erately  gone  to  the  battle,  merely 
to  gratify  a  blood-thirsty  spirit.  They  were  all  alike.  Could  there 
be  any  circumstances  that  would  justify  men  in  inflicting  mortal 
injury  upon  their  fellows? 

Then  that  awful  minute  after  her  father  was  shot  came  into  view, 
and  she  saw  again  the  whirling  figures  in  the  drawing-room,  the  two 
robbers  who  held  her  in  their  rough  grasp,  and  the  impetuous  assault 
of  the  Englishman.  Well,  he  was  certainly  excusable  that  time.  It 
did  not  seem  at  all  probable  that  a  mild  expostulation  would  have 
been  appropriate  there. 

If  they  sailed  in  his  ship,  she  would  talk  to  him  about  it.  And 
just  then  she  heard  his  voice,  as  his  window  was  next  hers. 

"  If  Miss  Dale  is  well  enough,"  he  was  saying,  "  I  should  like  to 
see  her  just  one  minute.  When  I  saw  her  last  she  was  in  the  grasp 
of  those  scoundrels." 

"  But  she  has  retired,  ray  friend,"  replied  Mr.  Boston. 

"  Well,  I  must  wait.     You  tell  me  she  is  entirely  uninjured  ?" 

"  Entirely.  Her  excellent  appetite  at  supper  emboldened  me  to 
gratify  my  own.  I  had  not  eaten  anything  for  twelve  hours.  I 
think  she  had  probably  fasted  twenty-four." 

"  The  wretch  !"  said  Annot. 

''  If  I  could  hear  her  sing " 

There  was  a  pause.  A  hundred  thoughts  gallopped  through  her 
mind. 

"  Because,"  continued  Miles,  "  if  she  would  sing  Annie  Laurie 
just  once  for  me,  I  would  be  willing  to  do  like  that  other  fellow, 
and  '  lay  me  down  and  die.' " 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Insurmotjntable  Obstacles. 

T  was  high  noon  when  the  invalids  crept  down-stairs  the  next  day. 
Mr.  Dale  had  been  wounded  in  the  breast;  the  bullet,  deflected 
by  unerring  Providence,  glancing  at  the  articulation  of  a  rib  with 
the  sternum,  had  torn  its  way  out  near  the  spinal  column.     Mr. 


I 


INSURMOUNTABLE   OBSTACLES.  101 

Miles  had  a  scalp  woiuul,  not  dissimilar  from  those  inflicted  at 
Celtic  fairs  with  skilfully-wielded  shillalahs.  Coma  was  the  first  re- 
sult in  both  cases,  and  fever  the  second.  The  supercargo  had  been 
slightlv  delirious,  hut  at  this  bright  noontide  both  were  decidedly 
convalescent. 

Mr.  Boston  was  in  consultation  with  Toby  all  the  morning.  The 
railroad  was  twenty  miles  distant,  and  the  knotty  problem  to  solve 
related  to  the  transfer  of  Mr.  and  ]\Iiss  Dale,  with  needful  luggage, 
to  the  neare'^t  station.  The  war  had  been  driven  back  from  the 
neighbourhood  for  the  nonce,  but  there  would  surely  be  a  return 
wave  in  the  near  future,  and  Charleston  offered  the  most  secure 
refuge  at  ju-esent. 

A  neighbour  of  Mr.  Dale's,  whose  lands  adjoined  Dale's  Manor, 
had  long  cast  covetous  eyes  upon  his  possessions.  This  neighbour 
had  fifty  bales  of  cotton  at  the  railway  station,  unsold.  He  was 
loyal,  distrusted  Confederate  scrip,  and  was  waiting  for  a  "  gold"  pur- 
chaser. After  a  prolonged  consultation  with  the  supercargo,  Mr. 
Dale  sent  for  Mr.  Brooks,  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour  titles  were 
passed.  Mr.  Brooks  had  a  clean  deed  to  "  Dale's  Manor  and  furni- 
ture." Mr.  Dale  had  an  order  for  the  delivery  of  the  fifty  bales  of 
cotton,  and  Mr.  Miles  purchased  this  for  the  "Nellie"  lading  for 
ten  thousand  dollars,  "deliverable  alongside."  The  payment  to  be 
made  in  gold  or  its  equivalent  in  Charleston. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  all  parties  to  this  triple  arrangement  were 
entirely  satisfied  with  their  respective  bargains.  Two  hundred  dol- 
lars per  bale  was  a  moderate  price  for  the  staple,  as  Mr.  Miles,  who 
had  recently  canvassed  the  market,  knew.  Ten  thousand  dollars 
for  Dale's  Manor  was  moderate,  in  the  estimation  of  Mr.  Brooks,  and 
was  also  a  higlily  satisfactory  price  to  Mr.  Dale,  although  he  had 
refused  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  the  same  property  from 
the  same  purchaser.  It  is  true  the  larger  offer  was  made  in  a  cur- 
rency that  did  not  circulate  freely  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Confed- 
eracy. Mr.  Brooks  departed  before  dinner,  with  the  understanding 
that  the  house  would  be  vacated  during  the  week.  For  the  domestic 
animals,  and  such  household  supplies  as  might  be  left,  Mr.  Brooks 
engaged  to  convey  the  entire  party  to  the  station  and  to  prepay  the 
freight  on  the  cotton. 

They  dined  sumptuously.  After  dinner,  the  host  and  Mr.  Bos- 
ton went  out  under  the  pines  with  cigars  alight.  Annot  and  Mr. 
Miles  remained  in  the  drawing-room.  The  shattered  mirror  was 
still  on  the  wall. 


102  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Did  you  know,"  said  Annot,  pointing  to  the  glass,  "  that  the 
same  bullet  struck  you  first  ?" 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  said  Miles. 

"  Yes,"  slie  replied,  with  a  shudder.  "  You  were  there  by  the 
chair.  The  wretch  fii-ed  from  the  corner  of  the  table,  and  I  saw  the 
mirror  crumble  when  you  fell." 

"How  could  you  see  all  this?"  asked  he,  looking  admiringly  at 
her.  "  I  only  remember  clawing  at  the  rascal's  sword  as  I  fell.  I 
am  not  sure  that  I  heard  the  shot." 

"  What  did  you  think  of  doing?"  said  Annot. 

"  I  intended  to  master  his  weapon  and  kill  him,  and  then  kill  the 
man  who  stood  by  your  father,"  answered  Miles,  tranquilly.  "  I 
thought  I  had  finished  the  other  with  the  pitcher." 

"  So  did  I.     Oh  !  how  can  men  be  so  cruel  ?" 

"  They  had  you  in  their  grasp,"  said  Miles,  indignantly.     "  You  !" 

She  was  silenced.  Some  intonation  in  the  other's  voice  stunned 
her.  If  her  gentle  and  pious  thought  could  be  translated  into  mas- 
culine vernacular,  it  would  probably  run  thus :  "  What  a  devil  of  a 
man  this  is !" 

"  I  have  a  message  to  deliver,"  said  he,  presently,  speaking  slowly 
and  deliberately.  '^  It  was  entrusted  to  me  under  solemn  circum- 
stances." She  made  no  reply,  and  there  was  another  pause,  while 
he  collected  his  thoughts. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  the  battle  on  Saturday  ?  Do  you 
know  any  of  those  who  were  killed  ?"  asked  he,  at  length. 

"  I  am  not  sure.  I  thought  I  heard  the  gentlemen  mention  one 
name  when  they  were  taking  father  up-stairs." 

"  And  that  was " 

"  Captain  Stanly." 

He  glanced  furtively  at  her  face.  It  was  serious,  but  bore  no 
traces  of  very  violent  agitation. 

"I  was  quite  near  him,"  he  continued,  "when  he  was — hurt. 
And  he  gave  me  this."  Here  he  produced  the  locket.  "  He  told 
me  to  give  it  to  Annie  Laurie,  and  to  say  that  he  had  stolen  it. 
That  is  all.     I  thought  he  meant  you.     Did  he?" 

"  It  is  mine,"  she  answered,  taking  the  locket  with  grave  com- 
posure, "  or  rather,  it  belongs  to  father.  He  has  been  very  much 
distressed,  thinking  the  robbers  had  taken  it." 

She  touched  a  spring  and  the  case  opened.  Miles  looked  over 
her  shoulder.  It  was  the  picture  of  a  lady,  like  Annot  and  yet  not 
Annot.     His  eyes  saw  a  dozen  discrepancies  at  the  first  glance. 


INSURMOUNTABLE   OBSTACLES.  103 

""We  have  other  pictures  of  my  mother,"  said  Annot;  "but 
father  has  always  liked  this  the  best.  Jle  calls  it  the  C'liflou  Pic- 
ture. This  building  in  the  background  is  the  Observatory  on  Clifton 
Downs.     It  was  taken  twenty-five  years  ago," 

He  was  watching  her  keenly  all  this  time.  It  was  about  time  for 
her  to  burst  into  tears  or  faint.  Jle  had  arranged  all  this  in  his 
mind  ;  but  she  was  totally  oblivious.  Not  uj)  to  the  exigencies  of 
the  occasion. 

"  May  1  ask  if  Captain  Stanly  knew  whose  picture  it  was  ?"  he 
said,  dubiously. 

"  Probably  not.  It  was  on  the  table  there,  I  remember  now, 
when  he  was  here  last,"  and  here  she  blushed;  "but  he  merely 
glanced  at  it."     She  closed  the  case  with  a  snap. 

"  It  is  very  like  you,"  s;iid  Miles,  '*  and  perhaps  he  thought  it  was 
you  ?" 

''  Perhaps." 

He  arose  and  walked  restlessly  across  the  room  and  back  again. 
He  had  screwed  up  his  courage  to  discliarge  this  awful  obligation, 
had  steeled  his  heart  to  endure  the  sight  of  her  speechless  sorrow  or 
her  hysterical  outcry,  and  lo !  she  was  cold  as  marble ! 

"  Miss  Dale,"  he  said,  taking  a  seat  by  her  side  again,  "  I  am 
presuming  terribly;  but  may  I  ask  you  to  listen  to  a  bit  of  personal 
history  ?" 

"  Presuming !" 

"  Before  I  left  England,"  he  went  on,  "  I  asked  a  hidy  to  marry 
me.  She  refused  me.  I  have  known  her  from  my  boyhood,  and  I 
thought  I  loved  her  with  unspeakable  devotion.  If  she  had  accej)ted 
me,  I  think  it  very  probable  that  no  other  woman  in  the  world  would 
have  attracted  me.     Yet  I  know  now  that  I  never  love<I  her  at  all." 

She  looked  at  him,  astonished. 

"Bear  with  me,"  he  continued,  "and  pardon  the  egotism.  But  I 
must  tell  you.  I  cannot  live  another  hour  under  the  same  roof  with 
you  otherwise. 

"  I  cannot  tell  how  the  feeling  began.  She  was  away  at  some 
school  on  the  Continent,  and  when  she  came  home  she  was  a  woman. 
The  intimacy  that  became  us  as  children  was  not  becoming  in  ma- 
tured people.  I  thought  I  must  have  her,  and  then  I  thought  Ily — 
I  mean  my  only  brother,  wanted  her  also.  After  some  years  of 
doubt,  my  brother  went  away — far  away,  to  India,  in  fact — and  I 
was  constantly  humiliated  by  the  conviction  that  lie  went  merely  to 
leave  a  clear  field  to  me.     At  last  there  came  a  letter  from  him,  in 


104  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

■which  he  said  in  precise  terms  he  had  never  seen  the  woman  he 
would  marry. 

"  Look  you  !  This  brother  of  mine  is  so  constituted  that  a  false- 
hood would  blister  his  tongue.  He  would  cut  off  his  hand  rather 
than  write  a  lie.  And  when  I  read  his  letter,  I  knew  he  had  never 
been  a  rival.  And  then  I  went  and  told  her  very  much  as  I  am 
now  telling  you. 

"I  am — that  is — I  have  certain  lands. in  England,  and  this  lady 
is  the  probable  heiress  to  other  lands  adjoining  mine.  She  is  an 
heiress  now,  indeed,  but  not  too  rich  to  make  my  suit  indecorous.  I 
thought  I  ought  to  marry,  and  I  thought  this  lady  was  precisely  the 
woman  made  for  me. 

"  And  now  comes  my  confession  !  While  my  brother,  whom  I 
love  dearly,  seemed  to  stand  between  us " 

"Your  elder  brother?"  said  Annot,  deeply  interested. 

"  Xo ;  I  am  the  elder.     Why  do  you  ask  that  ?" 

"  I  thought  you  had  said — or  I  dreamed "     And  she  put  her 

hand  to  her  forehead,  musing.  "  No  matter.  Excuse  the  interrup- 
tion, and  go  on." 

"  When  Hvland  was  gone " 

"Hyland?'' 

"  Yes ;  my  brother.  When  he  was  out  of  the  race,  it  seemed  to 
be  more  of  a  business  for  lawyers  and  settlements.  Do  you  under- 
stand me?  I  had  not  then  discovered  my  lack  of  every  sentiment 
that  should  possess  the  man  who  seeks  a  wife.  And  therefore 
when  I  was  rejected,  with  great  gentleness,  by-the-bye,  I  was  more 
astounded  than  wounded." 

"  Yet  you  came  to  America  on  this  dangerous  expedition " 

"  I  had  already  arranged  for  that  before  I  spoke  to  her.  What ! 
you  think  this  was  the  exploit  of  a  desperate  man,  rendered  reckless 
by  disappointed  love?  Ah,  no!  I  did  not  know  what  love  was 
then. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  I  could  be  so  involved  in  passion  that  life 
is  worthless — worse  than  worthless — unless  it  is  spent  in  the  society 
of  another.  That  a  gentle  girl  could  so  master  me  in  a  few  short 
days  that  I  am  miserable  out  of  her  presence.  I  have  learned  all 
this  at  Dale's  Manor. 

"  Do  not  answer  me,  please.  Although  my  words  betoken  mad- 
ness— for  I  have  only  known  you  four  days — I  am  not  mad.  And 
I  will  not  annoy  you  with  any  more  professions.  I  discovered  the 
other  night,  when  you  refused  to  sing  one  song,  which  he  had  pro- 


INSURMOUNTABLE   OBSTACLES.  105 

hibiteil — and  the  next  day,  when  lie  sent  the  picture  to  you,  with 
his  hist  utterance — that  a  <^alhint  gentleman  had  known  you  before 
I  cjime.  Will  you  not  believe  nie  when  I  say  I  would  gladly  have 
died  in  his  stead  the  other  day  for  your  sake? 

"  I  have  said  all  this  to  you  because  I  could  not  help  it.  If  I 
had  consulted  proprieties,  I  should  have  waited  until  the  shock  of 
this  bereiivement " 

"Pray  spare  nie  these  allusions,"  she  said,  resentfully;  "there  is 
no  need  for  such  extensive  condolence  !" 

He  was  stunned  this  time. 

"You  have  been  so  candid,"  slie  contiimed,  while  a  rosy  glow 
overspread  her  face,  "  that  I  should  relieve  your  mind  of  part  of 
its  distress.  Captain  Stanly  was  nothing  to  me  beyond  a  mere 
acquaintance." 

He  was  still  speechless,  but  touched  the  locket  in  her  hand. 

"  I  did  not  sing  Annie  Laurie  because — because  he  had  some 
foolish  thoughts  about  me.  At  least,  I  fancied  he  had.  And  he 
rode  away  looking  sad,  and  perhaps  I  was  oppressed  with  a  presenti- 
ment. He  took  this  without  my  knowledge.  I  am  like  your 
brother,"  and  here  she  laughed  with  forced  gayety,  "  in  that  I  have 
failed  to  find  my  destined  partner."  She  moved  to  the  piano,  and 
he  followed  her  mechanicall}'.  He  was  in  a  stupor.  Without  a 
prelude  she  struck  the  keys  and  sang  Annie  Laurie. 

She  turned  to  him  at  the  conclusion  of  the  second  stanza.  He  was 
kneeling  on  a  stool  at  her  side.  He  held  his  hand  out  for  hers,  but 
she  busily  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  music-book,  wondering  if  he 
could  hear  her  heart  beating. 

"  Miss  Dale,"  he  said,  in  low  tones,  the  more  earnest  because  sub- 
dued, "  hear  another  word.  Foitare  Annie  Laurie.  You  are  all  the 
world  to  me !  And  I  beg  you  to  regard  me  as  an  earnest  suitor  for 
your  hand.  I  am  a  gentleman  of  good  name.  In  due  time  I  will 
satisfy  your  father,  and  meanwhile  I  will  say  no  word  of  love  to 
you.  The  dread  of  losing  you  by  foolish  delay  is  my  only  excuse 
for  speaking  now." 

She  turned  again,  a  perplexed  expression  on  her  glowing  counte- 
nance. He  had  captured  her  hand  by  this  time,  kissed  it,  and 
released  it. 

"Please  get  up,"  she  said,  moving  away.  She  looked  out  upon 
the  lawn.  Her  father  and  the  bearded  Boston  were  enveloped  in 
fine  blue  smoke.  Miles  stood  submissively  behind  her.  If  she 
could  only  go  to  her  room  and  have  a  good  cry  now ! 


106  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  I  have  said  nothing  to  you  about  your  brave  effort  to  rescue  me," 
said  she,  as  a  tear  or  two  slipped  down  on  her  dress.  "  But  I  appre- 
ciate it.     I  am  honoured  by  all  you  have  said " 

"  Oh,  Annot !" 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,  please."  The  sound  of  her  name  and  liis 
blazing  eyes  frightened  her.  "  You  know,  certainly,  that  this  sud- 
den fancy  of  yours  will  probably  wear  otf  as  you  get  stronger." 

"  Oh,  Annot,  I  love  you  !" 

"Yes;  so  you  have  said.  But  you  have  been  wounded,  and  are 
still  feeble  and  cannot  know  your  own  mind.  I  will  forget  all  you 
have  said " 

"  Oh,  Annot!  I  have  no  mind  where  you  do  not  reign.  Feeble  ! 
I  will  undertake  any  task,  encounter  any  danger,  for  one  smile  from 
you.  If  you  could  only  say  one  word — if  you  could  tell  me  I  might 
hope  to  win  your  favour  some  years  hence " 

"There  are  serious  obstacles,  sir."  She  spoke  witli  grave  dignity, 
albeit  glancing  shyly  at  his  eager  face.  "  I  may  say  insurmountable 
obstacles." 

"  Tell  me  the  worst  of  them.  If  you  do  not  positively  hate 
me " 

"  Hate  you  !"  He  was  kissing  her  hand  again  by  this  time.  "  Ah, 
no  !  How  could  I  hate  one  who  has  been  so  kind  ?  But  I  am  only 
a  poor  country  girl — oh,  yes  ;  insurmountable " 

"  My  queen  !   my  darling  !" 

"  And  you — nobody  knows  it  excepting  me — you  are  Lord 
Rayneford !" 


CHAPTER    XIX. 
At  Hawklev. 

OXE  hot  morning  the  "  Bengal"  touched  at  Cape  Town,  and 
Hvland  learned  that  the  "Lord  Clive"  had  sailed  a  week 
before.     She  had  stopped  only  for  coals  and  water  and  the  mails. 

"  Xo  shore  leave,  Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  captain,  as  he  stepped  into 
the  yawl.  "  Ah,  I  forgot  the  beggar  was  deaf!  Pass  his  slate,  one 
of  you."  And  he  scrawled  down  his  order.  "  Will  you  come  ashore, 
Mr.  liayneford  ?     AVe  have  four  hours." 

Hyland  was  watching  the  mate's  countenance  as  he  deciphered 
the  captain's  hieroglyphics. 


AT  IIAWKLEY.  107 

"But  I  want  to  go  ashore  iny.st'lt","  nuittered  Mr.  Jones. 

*'  AVhen  I  return,  then,"  answered  the  captain  ;  "  tell  him  so,  Mr. 
RayiK'ford,  jilease.     Will  you  come?" 

'"I  think  1  will  wait  for  Mr.  Jones,"  answered  Hyland ;  "I  want 
to  see  the  process  of  coaling." 

A  barge  was  alongside,  ami  the  black  diamonds  were  being  trans- 
ferred to  the  bowels  of  the  "  liengal,"  half  a  ton  at  a  time. 

*'  Mr.  Jones  desires  to  visit  the  town,"  thought  Hyland,  "to  get 
a  supply  of  rum  for  his  private  use.  If  I  go  with  him,  the  old 
rascal  will  find  it  difficult  to  smuggle  it  aboard." 

Mr.  Rayncford  was  restless  in  his  habits.  Once  or  twice  he  had 
strayed  on  deck  during  the  night  when  it  was  the  mate's  watch,  and 
he  fancied  that  he  detected  the  odour  of  rum  about  that  excellent  offi- 
cer, as  well  as  some  thickness  of  speech.  Latterly,  these  symptoms 
had  disappeared,  because  the  mate's  private  stock  was  exhausted, 
and  the  daily  allowance  was  too  moderate  to  make  any  sensible 
im])ression  on  !Mr.  Jones's  seasoned  carcase. 

"  Four  bells  !"  said  Mr.  Jones,  as  the  captain  came  aboard.  "Mr. 
Rayneford,  let  us  go  ashore  under  canvas.  We  will  take  this  shore 
boat  and  sail  in.  Here,  blackie  !  put  up  your  sail.  Half  a  crown 
for  your  boat  for  an  hour." 

"  You  sail  him  yourself?"  asked  the  negro.  Hyland  bawled  the 
question  in  the  mate's  ear. 

"  Certainly.  Squat  down  amidshii)s.  Drop  aboard,  sir.  Push 
off  her  bows,  blackie !     ^Vway  we  go  !" 

Hyland  sat  astern,  watching  the  mate's  management  of  the  little 
vessel  as  it  danced  over  the  waves.  One  hand  on  the  tiller,  the  other 
holding  the  main  sheet,  ]\Ir.  Jones  seemed  to  guide  the  boat  bv  in- 
stinct.  The  wind  came  in  puffs,  and  each  time  that  the  sail  filled 
and  the  boat  careened  to  leeward  the  sailor,  with  ready  hand,  put  the 
helm  down  and  brought  her  head  to  wind. 

"  Do  you  see  how  easy  it  is?"  said  the  mate  ;  "you  could  sail  back 
to  Calcutta  in  this  cockleshell  if  you  only  watched  the  wind.  See  ! 
Here  comes  a  strong  puff!  You  can  seethe  ripple  on  the  water. 
Helms-a-lee !  And  now  give  way  again.  Would  you  like  to  try 
it?  AVell.  Take  a  good  grip  of  the  sheet.  Now,  keep  the  tiller 
steady  and  watch  for  the  puffs.     Ah  !     Well  done,  sir!" 

Hyland  soon  learned  the  secret  of  steering,  and  brought  the  boat 
alongside  the  quay  in  good  fashion.  Telling  the  negro  to  wait  for 
them,  the  two  walked  up  the  quay. 

"Only  two    thin";s   to    remember    in    sailinj;   these    fore-and-aft 


108  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

boats,"  observed  Mr.  Jones :  "  first,  don't  get  skeered ;  second,  don't 
be  a  fool !" 

Hyland  looked  at  him  enquiringly. 

"  I  mean  tliere  is  not  the  danger  that  a  lubber  thinks  there  is. 
When  she  lays  down,  her  head  comes  up  to  windward  nat'rally, — so 
long  as  the  sea  don't  wash  aboard.  Water  aboard  plays  the  devil ! 
Then  the  other  thing  is  to  meet  the  wind.  When  it  comes  with  a 
roar,  draw  in  your  sheet  and  put  her  head  up.  Put  the  wind's  eye 
out !  Let  it  whistle  on  both  sides  of  your  sail.  A  lubber  will  try 
to  scud  away  from  it.  A  sailor  will  keep  his  face  to  it  the  harder 
it  blows." 

Mr.  Jones  had  privately  decided  to  buy  two  quart  bottles  of  rum. 
There  were  two  pockets  in  his  pea-jacket  that  would  accommodate 
so  much  bulk,  and  the  chances  of  smuggling  that  aboard  were  in 
his  favour.  As  his  companion  stuck  to  him  he  walked  boldly  into  a 
shop  on  the  head  of  the  quay,  after  they  had  traversed  one  or  two 
streets  in  the  hot. town. 

"  Rum  !"  he  said  to  the  shopkeeper.     "  Two  quarts." 

"How  much?"  said  the  shopkeeper. 

"  My  friend  is  deaf,"  said  Hylancl,  taking  the  slate.  "  Wait  a 
moment." 

"  If  you  will  wait  until  we  reach  England,"  he  wrote  on  the  slate, 
"  I  will  give  you  five  gallons  of  rum.  The  captain  would  not  allow 
you  to  take  it  aboard,  if  he  knew  it.  And  if  I  knew  it  and  failed 
to  tell  him,  I  should  be  guilty  of  fraud." 

Mr.  Jones  read  the  sentence,  and  then  wiped  it  oflf  with  the  bit  of 
sponge  attached  to  the  slate. 

"A  tumblerful  of  rum  !"  growled  Mr.  Jones,  laying  a  shilling  on 
the  counter.     "■  I  s'pose  you  won't  try  any,  Mr.  Raynefbrd  ?" 

Hyland  shook  his  head,  and  the  mate  emptied  the  tumbler  into 
his  gullet.  Five  minutes  later  Hyland  was  steering  back  to  the 
"  Bengal."  He  paid  the  half-crown  to  the  boatman,  and  clambered 
aboard  the  steamer,  followed  by  the  mate,  who  was  silent  and 
grumpy. 

"  I  was  dubious  about  old  Jones,"  whispered  the  captain,  as  the 
mate  walked  forward.  "  He  wanted  some  private  grog,  I  know,  but 
I  don't  think  he  has  brought  any  aboard." 

"  About  a  pint,"  said  Hyland,  "  and  that  went  down  his  throat." 

"  A  pint !"  said  the  captain,  derisively.  "  That  is  no  more  to  him 
than  a  spoonful.     Up  anchor  !" 

That  night,  when  the  "  Bengal"  was  riding  over  the  long  swell 


AT  HAWK  LEV.  109 

of  the  open  sea,  Hyland  lighted  his  cheroot  and  went  on  deck  to 
admire  the  constellation  of  the  Sonthern  Cross.  Mr.  Jones,  still 
moody,  was  pacini:  the  narrow  walk  between  the  hnlwark  and  the 
cabin-hatch.  llyian<l  tonched  his  arm,  drew  him  to  the  binnacle 
light  and  took  his  slate. 

"Yon  are  angrv  about  the  rum,"  he  wrote;  "but  you  will  not 
remain  angry  if  vou  retiect  a  little.  No  l)etter  seaman  than  yourself 
is  on  this^hip.     But  all  your  seamanship  is  worthless  if  you  get 

too  much  grog." 

Mr.  Jones  read,  nodded  his  head,  and  rubbed  out  the  writing. 

"I  could  go  to  sleep  in  any  storm,"  wrote  Hyland,  "if  I  knew 
you  were  on  deck  and  sober.  But  I  could  not  sleep  in  a  dead  calm 
if  I  knew  you  were  in  charge  and — not  sober." 

Mr.  Jones  read,  obliterated  the  record,  and  nodded  again. 

"  But  this  was  not  all.  If  I  had  not  prevailed  upon  you  to  re- 
linquish your  purchase  it  would  have  been  confiscated.  The  first 
word  the  captain  said  when  we  came  aboard  was  a  question.  And  I 
was  very  glad  that  I  could  answer  it." 

Mr.  Jones  read,  applied   the  sponge,  and   held  out   his  horny 

hand.  ,        •    i 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Rayneford.  I  was  scudding  away  from  the  wind, 
and  you  faced  it.     I  was  a  lubber,  and  you  were  able  seaman." 

When  the  "  Bengal"  passed  Eddystone  Light  there  was  a  fierce 
storm  raging,  and  the  captain  decided  to  run  into  harbour  at  Ply- 
mouth. ^Hyland,  watching  the  light-house  as  they  swept  by,  catch- 
ing blinks  of  light  occasionally,  was  rejoicing  at  the  prospect  of 
setting  his  foot  on  English  soil. 

"  Dull  work  over  there,"  observed  Mr.  Jones,  "  sitting  out  on  a 
bit  of  rock  and  keeping  the  light  up." 

Hvland  no<lded.     Mr.  Jones  was  loquacious. 

"  i  have  a  son  in  that  business,"  he  continued.  "  He  is  light-house 
keeper  at  Linton  Sands.  Better  nor  Eddystone  though!  Going 
ashore  at  Plvmouth?  Well,  I  shall  be  at  Milford  in  a  week,  I 
suppose.  I  shall  come  to  an  anchor  there.  I  can  see  Tom  once  a 
week,  or  oftener,  for  that  matter.  I'll  rig  out  a  sloop  for  my  own 
sailing,  and  I  can  go  to  Linton  Sands  when  I  like.  Thomas  Jones, 
at  the  Harp  Inn,  Milford." 

Hvland  wrote  the  address  on  his  tablets. 

"  Mr.  Jones  remembers  my  promise  of  five  gallons,"  thought 
Hyland,  "and  I  must  not  forget  it." 

When  he  stepped  on  board  the  tug,  far  in  the  night,  Zeba  fol- 


110  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

lowed,  taking  Hyland's  portmanteau  from  one  of  the  sailors.  The 
Indian's  own  wardrobe  was  in  a  knapsack,  strapped  to  his  back 
military  fashion. 

"Farewell,  captain!"  said  Mr.  Rayneford,  as  the  tug  cast  off. 
"Please  send  my  luggage  to  Charing  Cross  Hotel.     If  the  storm, 
abates  you  will  be  in  the  Thames  to-morrow,  will  you  not?" 

"  Aye !  aye !  storm  or  no  storm.  I  only  want  a  few  hours  of 
daylight.     Good  luck  to  you,  Mr.  Rayneford  !" 

There  was  some  mairnetic  influence  streaming;  from  the  earth  and 
infusing  new  vigour  into  the  soul  of  the  young  Englishman  when 
he  leaped  ashore  on  that  blustering  coast.  He  stamped  upon  the 
ground  exultant,  while  Zeba  shivered  behind  him.  Everything  was 
nautical  about  the  streets  bordering  the  harbour.  Hyland  found  a 
cab,  after  traversing  one  or  two  long  streets,  and  he  and  the  Indian 
were  soon  in  the  warm  waiting-room  at  the  railway  station,  hovering 
over  the  blazing  grate. 

"  Train  for  Exeter,  Taunton,  and  Bristol !"  said  an  official,  putting 
his  head  in  at  the  door;  "  no  intermediate  stations !" 

"  Taunton  !"  said  Hyland.  "  This  is  the  ticket  for  us.  Come, 
Zeba!  In  two  hours  you  shall  have  a  bedroom  with  the  tempera- 
ture of  Calcutta." 

A  five-gallon  demijohn,  boxed,  addressed  "  ^fr.  Thomas  Jones, 
Harp  Inn,  Milford,  AVales.  To  be  left.  Freight  paid,"  Mas  the 
first  result  of  Mr.  Rayneford's  visit  to  Taunton.  No  other  obliga- 
tions detaining  him,  he  spent  the  better  part  of  the  succeeding  day 
in  travelling  across  country  to  Hawkley.  He  had  telegraphed  from 
Taunton,  addressing  Nancy  Hicks,  care  of  Lord  Rayneford,  announ- 
cing his  arrival,  and  the  housekeeper,  arrayed  in  her  best  gown, 
welcomed  him  at  dusk.  Master  Hyland  had  been  her  special  charge 
from  babyhood,  and  he  had  nothing  to  do,  after  satisfying  the  de- 
mands of  hunger,  but  listen  to  her  account  of  the  mysterious  disap- 
pearance of  my  lord.  The  old  woman  Avas  a  miracle  of  discretion, 
and  this  w^as  positively  the  first  opportunity  that  had  been  presented 
to  pour  her  story  into  an  ear  that  was  at  once  sympathising  and 
discreet. 

"He  bade  me  good-bye,  Master  Hyland,"  so  ran  her  story,  "and 
he  told  me  to  heed  his  last  instructions.  Everything  to  be  kept  as 
usual.  He  would  be  absent  six  months.  The  safest  thing  to  tell 
enquiring  friends  was  just  the  truth,  and  that  was  that  I  did  not 
know  where  he  was  going.  jSIr.  Plimpton  came  first,  and  he 
brouo-ht  a  strange — g-entleman  with  him.     He  called  him  '  Dancer.' 


AT   If  A  WKL/CV.  Ill 

lie  is  an  ugly  little  man  with  red  eyes.  They  asked  nie  no  end  of 
questions  between  them,  but  I  had  only  one  answer.  I  was  not 
friirhteiRHl  about  Master  Miles.  I  did  not  call  him  Master  Miles  to 
them  until  they  asked  me  some  impudent  (juestions  about  how  uuich 
wine  mv  lord  usually  drank  at  dinner.  I  ean't  bear  that  Mr. 
Plimjjton.  Kxeuse  me,  Master  Ilyland,  I  know  he  is  your  cousin, 
but  that  is  not  your  fault.  \\'ell,  they  did  not  get  any  satisfaction 
here,  so  they  went  to  Mr.  Brentam.  AVhy,  they  asked  me  what 
clothes  my  lord  took  away  with  liim !  And,  would  you  believe  it? 
they  stopped  on  their  way  back  from  Mr.  Brentam's  to  ask  if  my 
lord  took  his  evening  dress  with  him  !  You  know,  M:\ster  Hyland, 
I  always  pack  your  trunks  when  you  leave  home,  and  I  always  take 
a  list  of  your  things.  So  I  just  gave  Mr.  Plimpton  the  list  of  things 
in  my  lord's  trunk.  That  little  red-eyed  ferret  wished  to  take  the 
list  away  with  him,  but  I  refused,  so  he  asked  for  paper  and  copied 
it.  I  like  his  impudence!  But  Mr.  Plimpton  said  it  was  all 
right." 

She  paused  in  her  narration  to  watch  the  Hindoo.  There  were 
several  portraits  on  the  walls  of  the  library,  where  the  trio  sat. 
Hyland  sought  this  room  after  dinner,  because  it  was  the  customary 
smoking-place  at  Hawkley.  Zeba,  candle  in  hand,  was  going  the 
rounds,  gravely  studying  the  various  portraits.  He  paused  before 
one  at  length,  and  after  intent  scrutiny  of  the  handsome  face  on  the 
canvas,  turned  to  Hyland. 

"Picture  of  sahib's  brotlier?"  he  asked. 

"  No ;  it  is  like  him,  though.    There  is  no  picture  of  my  brother." 

Zeba  replaced  the  candle  and  resumed  his  seat. 

"  If  you  have  that  list,  ^Irs.  Hicks,"  said  Hyland,  as  he  threw 
away  the  fragment  of  his  cheroot,  "  I  should  like  to  see  it  too." 

"  Certainlv,  Master  Hyland.  Excuse  me  a  minute,  and  I'll 
fetch  it." 

While  she  was  gone,  Hyland  pointed  out  the  portraits  to  the 
Indian. 

"Those  are  all  my  ancestors,  Zeba.  The  portrait  you  selected  is 
my  father.  This,  my  mother.  My  brother  is  like  both.  He  has 
the  eyes  of  the  lady,  but  otherwise  resembles  my  father." 

"Sahii)  has  eyes  of  his  father,  and  all  the  rest  like  lady." 

"  Perhaps.  I  think  you  have  hit  the  mark  exactly.  But  we  have 
another  picture  of  both  father  and  mother  together.  Ah,  here  is 
the  list !  Mrs.  Hicks,  can  you  find  the  photograph  in  the  morocco 
case  ?" 


112  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Mrs.  Hicks  pointed  to  the  list  in  his  hand.     He  read  as  follows : 

"  In  my  lord's  satchel : 

"  One  box  cigars. 

"  One  small  dressing-case." 

"  So  long  as  Miles  had  his  smoke,  and  his  shaving  appliances,  he 
was  equipped  for  a  journey,''  observed  Hyland.  "But  I  see  he  was 
more  elaborately  furnished  in  his  trunk." 

There  was  a  long  list  of  clothing,  with  some  peculiar  memoranda 
which  Mrs.  Hicks  added  for  her  own  guidance.  Hyland  read  the 
list  attentively,  with  some  vague  idea  of  Siberian  weather  on  his 
mind.  And  he  found  sundry  articles  of  winter  apparel  enumerated. 
The  catalogue  concluded  with — 

"  Three  boxes  cigars. 

"  One  writing-desk. 

"The  Clifton  picture,  in  morocco  case." 

"  I  cannot  show  you  the  picture  I  spoke  of,  Zeba,"  said  Hyland, 
returning  the  list  to  the  housekeeper.  "To-morrow  I  will  call  on 
Mr.  Brentam,  and  then  we  will  go  to  London." 

"  Miss  Carey  went  to  London  this  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Hicks, 
"and  Mr.  Brentam  is  going  to-morrow." 


CHAPTER    XX. 

The  Search  Begun. 

MRS.  HICKS  looked  out  from  her  chamber  window  the  next 
morning,  and  admired  the  beauties  of  Hawkley  Park  by  sun- 
rise. She  saw  Lord  Rayneford's  dog-cart,  driven  by  Hyland,  dis- 
appearing at  the  turn  in  the  avenue.  He  was  taking  time  by  the 
forelock  and  seeking  Mr.  Brentam.  On  the  lawn  she  beheld  the 
Hindoo,  kneeling  on  the  grass,  his  face  towards  the  sun,  and 
evidently  engaged  in  his  private  devotions. 

"  Pious,  anyway !"  she  thought,  as  Zeba  bowed  his  head  twice, 
until  his  turban  touched  the  ground ;  "  what  in  the  world  will 
Master  Hyland  do  with  this  one-armed  blackamoor  !" 

While  she  watched  him,  Zeba  arose  and  drew  his  tulwar,  flour- 
ished it  around  his  head,  cut  upward,  downward,  crosswise,  tossed  it 
whirling  in  the  air,  caught  it  by  the  hilt  as  it  fell,  cut  right  and  left, 
cast  it  upward  again,  causing  it  to  describe  a  glittering  arc,  and  leap- 


THE  SEARCH  BEGUN.  113 

ing  forward  caught  it  again,  and,  holding  it  at  arm's  lengtli,  pointeil 
it  motionless  at  the  orb  of  day.  Taking  a  cord  from  his  pocket,  he 
8U.s|KMide(l  the  weapon  from  the  bough  of  a  tree,  where  it  slowly 
gyrate<.l  as  he  marched  around  it. 

The  housekeeper  was  thoroughly  mystified,  and  withal  fascinated. 
There  was  something  portentous  in  the  aspect  of  the  grim  Hindoo. 
''One  eye  like  a  tire-coal,"  she  thought,  while  he  circled  more  and 
more  slowly  round.  Presently  the  sword  was  still,  and  the  Indian 
knelt  again  and  carefully  sighted  along  the  blade.  Apparently 
satisfied,  he  then  unfastened  tlie  cord,  slipped  the  tulwar  into  the 
scabbard,  and  paced  soberly  towards  the  house. 

In  his  attendance  upon  llyland,  the  quick-witted  native  had 
picked  up  a  fund  of  practical  knowledge.  Hyland  frequently 
found  him  more  prompt  and  efficient  in  his  surveys  than  his  edu- 
cated European  assistants.  He  seemed  to  divine  the  use  of  the 
engineer's  scientific  implements  by  an  instinct;  and  on  several 
occasions  he  had  astonishetl  llayneford  by  producing  the  right  thing 
at  the  right  time  before  it  was  named. 

AA'heu  Hyland  returned  from  his  morning  call  upon  Mr.  Brentam, 
he  found  the  Indian  squatted  on  the  grass,  under  the  tree  upon 
which  he  had  suspended  the  tulwar  at  sunrise.  He  had  a  small 
compass,  a  part  of  his  surveyor's  outfit,  and  a  map  of  England, 
which  he  had  t^iken  from  the  library  wall.     He  was  absorbed. 

"  What  are  you  studying,  Zeba?"  said  Hyland,  relinquishing  the 
reins  to  the  groom,  as  he  descended  from  his  perch. 

"  Salaam,  sahib !"  replied  the  Hindoo.  "  I  am  looking  for  the 
north." 

"Indeed!"  said  Hyland.  "Well,  the  second  window  there  is 
about  due  north." 

Zeba  pointed  to  the  compass. 

"  What!  you  want  an  accurate  survey?" 

"  See,  sahib !"  said  the  Indian,  thrusting  a  cane  in  the  sod,  and 
then  walking  rapidly  to  a  lilac-bush,  twenty  or  thirty  yards  distant, 
stuck  up  a  second  cane  near  the  root.     "  Will  sahib  survey?" 

"  Northwest  and  by  west." 

Zeba  spread  the  map  out  on  tlie  grass. 

"  Will  sahib  draw  the  line  on  the  map?"  said  the  Hindoo. 
"Here,  Taunton.     Here,  Hawkley?" 

"No.  A  little  more  north.  Here  is  Hawkley."  And  he  made  a 
spot  with  his  }>encil  to  indicate  the  locality. 

"  Now,  sahib,  draw  the  line  northwest  and  by  west." 

8 


114  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Hyland  laid  a  scale  on  the  map  and  drew  his  pencil  Hgiitly  across 
it. 

"  Your  line  runs  all  in  the  water,  Zeba,"  observed  Hyland ;  "  out 
Bristol  Channel,  touches  Milford,  crosses  St.  George's  Channel,  and 
strikes  Ireland  somewhere  about  Cork,  I  fancy."  Zeba  listenetl 
with  profound  attention. 

"  All  water !     No  English  land  ?"  said  the  Hindoo. 

"  None.  Except  the  twenty  miles  between  Hawklcy  and  the 
channel.  Then  open  water — here  is  a  little  spot  of  an  island — then 
all  water  to  Ireland.  Come  into  the  library.  I  have  a  larger  map 
there,  with  Hawkley  on  it." 

The  large  chart  was  the  record  or  result  of  certain  geological  sur- 
veys of  England  and  Wales,  and  the  names  of  many  insignificant 
localities  were  given  that  could  not  l>e  found  on  any  ordinary  geo- 
graphical maps.  Hyland's  more  careful  examination  of  this  revealed 
a  few  unimportant  villages  under  the  northwest  and  by  west  line. 

"  Here  are  the  villages,  Zeba,"  he  said  ;  "  Handon,  Skarr,  Lakly, 
and  Dimmot.  Then  the  channel.  All  water  to  Milford  Haven. 
Then  this  last  little  spot,  what  is  it  ?  Linton  Sands.  Then  all  sea 
again  to  the  Irish  coast.     What  the  deuce  are  you  hunting  ?" 

"Don't  know,  sahib,"  replied  the  Hindoo,  gravely,  while  his 
single  eye  glowed  with  smothered  fire.  "  Tulwar  point  so !  lu 
seven  days  can  try  again." 

"Suppose  you  try  again  now?"  said  Hyland. 

"Can't  ask  tulwar  twice  !"  replied  the  Indian.  "Handon,  Skarr, 
Lakly,  Dimmot.     All  the  rest  jungle?" 

"  No.  We  have  very  little  jungle  in  England.  These  are  farm 
lands  and  gentlemen's  parks.  The  villages  are  small.  We  came 
through  Skarr  yesterday.     Where  we  changed  horses." 

"  Any  forts,  barracks,  bungaloAVS,  prisons  ?" 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind.  All  jjeaceful  country.  And,  I  may  add, 
the  sweetest  country  in  the  world.     Suppose  you  explore  it,  Zeba?" 

"  Yes,  sahib." 

"  Well,  I  go  to  London  this  afternoon.  You  can  amuse  yourself 
in  that  way  until  I  return.  Mrs.  Hicks  will  take  care  of  you.  You 
shall  have  a  horse " 

"Don't  Avant  horse.  Walk,"  said  Zeba.  "Sahib  write  names. 
Handon,  Skarr,  Lakly,  Dimmot,  water,  Linton  Sands." 

Hyland  tore  a  leaf  from  his  {x>cketbook  and  wrote  the  names. 

"  Money  ?"  he  said,  as  he  handed  the  slip  to  the  Indian. 

"  Plenty  money.     Thanks !" 


THE  SEARCH  BEGUN.  115 

After  breakfast  the  Iliiuloo  disappeared,  llylaud  made  a  record 
in  liis  diary. 

"  Tlie  Indian,"  he  wrote,  ''lias  another  attack  of  superstition.  He 
has  been  practising  the  bUick  art  witii  his  tulwar  again,  and  has  gone 
in  obedience  to  its  directions  on  the  hunt  of  Miles.  There  is  some- 
thing sublime  in  his  unquestioning  reliance  upon  his  mummery.  It 
is  unspeakably  absurd  in  this  age  of  the  worlil,  and  would  have  been 
absurd  two  thousand  years  ago.  Yet  this  man  of  keen  intellect 
follows  a  delusion  that  could  not  deceive  an  English  child,  with 
unflinching  faith,  and  his  failure  will  not  shake  his  faith.  And  the 
most  curious  thing  to  note  is  its  effect  upon  me.  I  cannot  shake 
off  the  influence  of  Zcba's  manner.  I  have  not  seen  his  later  in- 
cantations, but  A[rs.  Hicks  described  his  methods  to  me,  which  were 
quite  similar  to  his  jiracticc  at  sea. 

"  He  comes  of  the  Hindoo  race,  of  course.  What  have  been  the 
characteristics  of  this  race,  so  far  as  history  reveals  them  ?  Is  it  also 
my  race  ?  Is  Zeba  Turanian  or  Aryan  ?  Comes  he  from  Ham  or 
Japhet? 

"  What  is  the  difference?  Cultivated  Turanians  have  had  a  habit 
of  deifying  insensate  matter.  They  worshipped  heroes.  And  I 
have  read  somewhere  that  they  invested  their  weapons  with  some 
occult  intelligence. 

"  Pooh  !  Why  should  I  pore  over  these  musty  figments !  It  has 
not  been  long  since  Christian  duellists  sought  the  church's  blessing 
upon  their  swords ! 

"  Suppose  I  state  the  case  here  for  future  reference. 

"  I  go  to  London  to-day.  I  will  get  what  information  I  can  at 
the  club,  and  from  Plimpton.  Then  I  start  to  find  Miles.  I  shall 
hunt  all  over  England  first.  I  expect  to  employ  no  agency,  except 
common  sense  and  vigilance.  I  know  the  country.  I  know  the 
probabilities.  I  can  read  the  papers  every  day,  and  can  utilize  any 
hint  that  may  point  to  Miles. 

"  Zeba  has  started,  with  a  list  of  villages  and — his  tulwar.  He 
knows  literally  nothing.  A  stranger  in  a  strange  land.  Yet  he 
starts  with  calm  confidence,  and  I  start  with  many  misgivings  and 
the  heartache ! 

"  Conclusion  :  The  more  a  man  certainly  knows,  the  more  does  he 
distrust  his  knowledge.  The  more  he  learns  of  invariable  law,  the 
more  does  he  look  for  variations.  I  shall  meet  Professor  Schmiser 
at  the  club  to-night,  and  if  I  have  opportunity  I  will  ask  his 
opinion." 


116  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

While  Mr.  Rayneford  was  gliding  over  the  iron  road  that  after- 
noon, his  face  turned  Londonward,  Zeba  was  marching  across  hills 
and  valleys  in  precisely  the  opposite  direction.  He  had  laid  aside 
his  turban  and  his  red  coat,  assuming  ordinary  English  attire,  ex- 
cepting the  tulwar,  buckled  close  to  his  side,  the  end  of  the  scabbard 
protruding  below  his  coat.  The  few  people  he  met  in  traversing 
lanes  and  by-ways — for  he  kept  a  tolerably  direct  course — generally 
glanced  at  him  Avith  slumberous  curiosity  as  he  strode  by.  Children, 
playing  at  cottage-doors,  usually  shrank  into  shelter  as  he  approached. 
Once  or  twice  he  was  accosted  by  parish  officials,  and  required  to 
produce  his  credentials.  On  these  occasions  he  promptly  presented 
the  document  he  had  received  in  Calcutta,  setting  forth  the  main 
facts  in  his  history.  "  He  had  been  loyal  and  valiant  in  the  army,  a 
sergeant  in  a  native  regiment,  had  been  maimed  in  the  discharge  of 
his  duty,  and  was  honourably  dismissed  with  a  pension."  His  soli- 
tary eye  blazed  with  sleepless  vigilance,  scrutinizing  every  face  he 
encountered.  His  manner  was  always  dignified  and  courteous,  but 
there  was  an  air  of  relentless  determination  about  him  that  had  its 
effect  upon  all  he  met.  Once,  a  rural  policeman,  after  reading  his 
discharge,  asked  why  he  wore  his  sword.  Zeba  pointed  his  slender 
finger  at  the  official  document,  and  answered,  "  Officer !"  and  the 
guardian  of  the  peace  was  silenced.  So  he  kept  his  pilgrimage  un- 
molested, sleeping  at  country  inns  at  night,  and  living  frugally  upon 
one  meal  a  day  of  animal  food,  and  content  with  a  crust  and  a  mug 
of  beer  at  morning  and  night. 

When  Hyland  left  England  he  was  closely  shaven,  and  he  had 
never  begun  the  cultivation  of  hirsute  adornments  until  he  went  to 
the  cinchona  plantations.  Persuaded  by  his  new  friend,  the  American 
doctor,  he  had  there  abandoned  his  razor,  and  returned  to  his  native 
land  bearded  like  the  pard.  It  was  so  effectual  a  disguise,  that  Mr. 
Plimpton  did  not  recognise  him.  Hyland  had  left  his  card  at  that 
gentleman's  residence,  with  a  pencilled  note,  saying  he  would  dine 
at  the  club.  Here  he  found  Professor  Schmiser,  an  old,  spectacled 
savant,  with  whom  Hyland  was  a  favourite  at  college,  and  as  the  pro- 
fessor lived  mainly  upon  the  fumes  of  tobacco,  they  got  a  quiet  corner 
in  the  smoking-room,  Avhere  Rayneford  recounted  the  story  of  Zeba 
and  his  superstition.    He  had  already  told  him  all  he  knew  of  Miles. 

"  About  twenty-five  ?"  said  the  professor.  "  Not'ing  to  do  ?  Com- 
ing to  London  twice  a  month,  and  den  pack  to  his  pooks?  Sound 
mental   force?     Engleesh?     Mine  friend,  your  brother  is  after  a 


womans 


f" 


THE  SEARCH  BEGUN.  H7 

"A  woman!''  siiitl  llylaiul,  horriliod. 

"  Yah  !  Ter  EiJ<j;let'sh  is  ter  tuyfel  !  Mebbe  your  brother  run 
avay  /Vo/u  a  woniaiis.  Mi'l)l)o  a  wonians  j^ourt  him,  urul  he  didn't 
Mant  to  be  gourted,  i)ut  wanted  some  otiicr.  lie  read  nmeh  pooks, 
und  shmoke  only  leetle.     Dere  must  pe  a  woraans !" 

"  My  dear  j)rorossor,"  said  Ilyhuid,  "you  are  certainly  mistaken. 
I  have  a  letter  from  Miles,  in  which  he  expressly  says  the  contrary." 

"Ah,  dat  makes  no  dill'erence  !"  responded  the  professor;  "  ven 
he  runs  avay,  he  don't  know  ter  womans  drives.  He  tell  ter  troot, 
but  he  has  a  hallucination.  Xo  matter.  I'll  dink  some  more  und 
write  you  word." 

To  Plyland's  great  astonishment  the  professor  did  not  exterminate 
Zeba  and  his  superstition  with  a  word,  as  he  had  expected. 

"We  think  a  great  deal  of  our  learning,"  said  Mr.  Schmiser; 
"  but  do  you  know  these  Indians  were  scholars  when  we  were  sav- 
ages? Their  civilization  antedates  ours  by  centuries.  And  there 
are  men  among  the  Brahmins  to-day  who  know  more  about  magnet- 
ism, I  mean  magnetic  psychology,  than  we  do.  I  cannot  under- 
stand, from  your  description,  where  science  ends  and  where  mummery 
begins,  but  I  can  easily  believe  there  is  a  scientific  foundation  for  all 
that  seems  to  be  folly  to  you.  And  the  employment  of  the  steel 
blade  is  especially  significant." 

He  was  talking  in  his  native  tongue  now,  and  his  words  flowed 
more  rapidly  and  smoothly. 

"Science  habitually  frowns  upon  all  inscrutable  phenomena.  It 
is  not  the  province  of  science  to  analyse  the  occult.  Her  efforts 
tend  to  expose  a  fraud  or  a  delusion,  but  never  to  formulate  non- 
})rovaljle  systems.  Therefore  her  deliverances  upon  the  topic  of 
Animal  Magnetism  have  been  very  cautious  or  very  rude.  I  can 
illustrate  my  thought  thus :  two  men  assert,  separately,  that  they 
have  seen  a  ghost.  The  scientific  world  meets  the  assertion  with 
disdain,  and  rejects  this  double  testimony  uj)on  scientific  hypotheses, 
well  established.  First,  there  is  no  proof  that  can  be  subjected  to 
analytical  tests  that  the  vision  was  not  a  mere  delusion.  Second,  it 
is  a  maxim  in  science  that  disemlwdied  spirits  cannot  be  visible  to 
the  physical  organism.  Third,  there  is  no  evidence,  satisfactory  to 
science,  that  man  hivs  any  existence  outside  of  his  material  organism. 
It  does  not  assert  the  opposite  doctrine,  but  it  declines  to  discuss  the 
proposition.  Indeed,  it  is  asserted  that  there  is  no  entity  that  is  not 
material,  and  I  cannot  controvert  that  point.  At  least,  not  yet.  It 
is  asserted  that  thought  is  only  phosphorus.     I  do  not  know. 


118  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  But  I  do  know  that  in  any  civilized  jurisprudence  the  testimony 
of  these  two  eye-witnesses  would  be  more  weighty  than  all  the  books 
of  all  the  philosophers,  always  provided  that  they  testified  of  facts 
of  ordinary  occurrence. 

"  If  I  had  to  deal  with  your  Hindoo,  I  should  follow  him  so  long 
as  he  would  lead.  I  should  distinguish  between  a  mere  mountebank 
and  a  sincere  believer  in  his  art;  and  I  should  investigate  each  step 
in  his  progress." 

"  I  am  entirely  bewildered,"  replied  Hyland.  "  You  seem  to  be 
reviving  all  the  abominable  humbug  of  the  Middle  Ages !" 

"  Engleesh  !"  quoth  the  professor.  ''  Ah,  well !  Here  is  Mr. 
Plimpton  looking  for  you." 

Hyland  and  Mr.  Plimpton  Avithdrew  to  another  corner,  leaving 
the  savant  to  his  pipe  and  his  meditations. 

"  There  are  two  Englishmen,"  thought  the  professor,  "  who  think 
wisdom  will  die  with  them.  You  could  not  knock  a  philosophical 
idea  into  their  heads  with  a  sledge-hammer !" 

"  There  goes  an  obstinate  young  cub !"  thought  Mr.  Plimpton, 
when  Hyland  left  him.  "He  rejects  the  aid  of  Dancer  with 
haughty  persistence.  He  will  find  his  brother  by  w'hat  he  calls 
common-sense  methods.  Meantime,  I  intend  to  keep  Dancer  on  the 
track." 

"  There  are  tAvo  maniacs,"  said  Hyland,  as  his  cab  rolled  on  to 
Charing  Cross  Hotel ;  "  one  offering  to  find  Miles  by  setting  a  thief- 
catcher  on  his  track ;  the  other  advocating  magnetism,  necromancy, 
humbug !  Plimpton,  a  remarkably  sensible  man  on  most  subjects, 
but  entirely  insane  in  his  admiration  of  his  detective,  because  he 
once  unravelled  a  complicated  fraud.  Schmiser,  a  square-headed 
thinker,  who  put  me  through  Kant  only  two  years  ago,  now  swal- 
lowed up  in  mesmerism  !  And  here  am  I,  the  one  sane  man  of  the 
trio,  about  to  search  England  over  without  the  slightest  clue.  I  will 
go  to  Bath  to-morrow,  consult  Colonel  Mordaunt,  and  then  start  out 
on  my  search.     And  I  will  explore  every  nook  of  this  island." 


A  NEW  ENTER miSE.  119 

CHAPTER    XXL 
A  New  Enterprise. 

COLONEL  MORDAUNT  and  his  clau<rhter  had  left  Bath  a 
week  before  Mr.  Rayiieford  arrived.  Mr.  Daltniaii  was  with 
them.  The  latter  was  about  to  start  on  a  cruise  in  his  yacht,  now 
at  ]\Iilford.  The  colonel  would  be  at  Clifton  in  a  few  days.  The 
arrival  of  the  "  Bengal"  had  been  announced,  and  he  had  probably 
gone  to  London,  as  he  expected  Mr.  Rayneford  in  that  vessel,  and 
was  doubtless  watching  the  marine  intelligence  in  the  papers. 

Thus  said  Cabbil,  Colonel  Mordaunt's  valet.  He  knew  Hyland, 
and  was  sure  the  colonel  would  expect  him  to  remain  at  his  house  in 
Bath  until  he  returned.  They  had  frequently  spoken  of  Mr.  Rayne- 
ford on  the  voyage.  The  "Lord  Clive"  had  made  a  sj)lendid  run 
from  the  Cape.  The  ladies  were  quite  well.  Miss  Juliet  had  not 
beeu  comfortable  at  sea,  but  was  well  now.  The  colonel  was  going 
about  the  country  with  Dr.  Leigh,  and  was  improving.  If  Mr. 
Rayneford  would  not  stop,  would  he  please  leave  his  address? 
Charing  Cross  Hotel,  London.     Thank'ee,  sir. 

Then  Plyland  prowled  over  the  old  city.  He  was  forming  his 
plans  and  did  not  want  advice  or  assistance.  He  was  just  going  to 
hunt  for  Miles.  He  was  not  much  disturbed  in  mind,  but  there  was 
constiint  occupation  before  him,  and  he  would  use  his  reason,  and 
])erhaps  he  could  accomplish  as  much  as  Zeba  and  the  detective 
together. 

Presently  he  found   himself   in   the  country.     He  had  strolled 
along  ])aying  slight  attention  to  the  direction  he  took,  constructing 
hypotheses  and  then  demolishing  them. 
'"Will  you  ride,  sir?" 

The  speaker  was  driving  a  nondescript  vehicle  on  four  wheels. 
The  seat  had  a  gig-top,  now  thrown  back  and  resting  upon  the 
hinder  part  of  the  wagon,  which  was  a  sort  of  box  covered  in.  An 
inscription  on  the  panels  read,  "Timothy  Holly,  Photographer. 
Stereoscopic  Views."  The  driver  was  a  ruddy-faced  man  with  a 
plci^sant  smile.  A  plump  pony  was  drawing  the  vehicle  at  a  very 
moderate  trot,  the  reins  being  twisted  round  the  whip  standing  in 
its  socket.     While  Hyland  hesitated  the  driver  halted. 

"  Ho,  Tommy  !  Stoj) !  The  gentleman  is  going  to  ride  a  bit. 
There  is  the  step,  sir,  just  before  the  wheel.  Going  far,  sir?  I  am 
very  glad  to  get  your  company !     I  was  almost  asleep.     Bath  is  a 


120  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

fine  place  to  sleep  !  Been  there  four  days.  Had  splendid  weather, 
and  got  a  lot  of  new  views.  Can't  say  much  in  favour  of  Bath  as  a 
market  for  views.  Have  only  sold  three  dozen  in  the  four  days ! 
Go  on,  Tommy !" 

"  This  is  very  comfortable,"  said  Hyland,  as  the  pony  resumed 
his  trot ;  "  I  did  not  know  that  I  was  fatigued.  How  far  are  we 
from  Bath  ?" 

"  Four  miles.  You  walked  out  ?  Ah,  well !  I  think  it  is  far 
pleasanter  to  ride.  Tommy  don't  bother,  you  see.  He  turns  out 
of  the  road  as  the  law  directs  when  he  meets  a  trap.  If  you  go  to 
sleep,  he  just  jogs  on  till  he  comes  to  some  place  where  oats  are  kept. 
Then  he  stops,  does  Tommy." 

"  I  suppose  you  inform  him  at  starting  what  road  you  will  take?" 
said  Hyland,  amused. 

"Sometimes,  sir.  Roads  are  all  alike  to  us.  If  we  come  across 
any  good  views,  we  just  stop  and  take  'em.  Which  way  are  you 
bound,  sir  ?" 

"Really,  I  have  not  decided.  I  am  just  looking  about — for 
views." 

"  Can  you  photograph  ?"  said  the  driver. 

"  Yes.  I  have  done  a  little  in  tliat  way.  But  I  am  not  very 
skilful." 

"  All  depends  on  the  focus,"  said  the  other,  confidentially ;  "  of 
course  you  must  have  your  chemicals  all  right.  I  learned  on  cards, 
in  Bristol,  yonder.  But  now  I  only  take  views.  Don't  object  to 
figgers  in  the  views,  if  they're  still.  I  thought  of  turning  oif  here, 
to  take  Carsel  Dane.  It  is  a  bit  of  a  ruin  with  some  splendid 
trees  in  the  background.     Would  you  mind  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  replied  Hyland.  "  I  have  heard  of  Castle  Dane, 
and  should  like  to  see  it.  Also  to  take  some  lessons  from  you  in 
your  art.     That  is — if  you  do  not  object." 

"  Delighted,  I'm  sure,  sir,"  said  the  artist,  cheerfully ;  "  Hi ! 
Tommy!  Turn  to  the  right.  Right!  That's  it!  You  see,  sir. 
Tommy  knows  English.  That  is  the  wisest  little  lump  of  a  horse 
I  ever  saw.  He  can  pretty  near  talk.  When  I  get  out,  if  there  is 
a  bit  of  grass  on  the  roadside,  I  just  loosen  his  check-rein  and  leave 
him.  I  am  fond  of  Tommy,  and  I  don't  like  the  thought  of  losing 
him." 

He  spoke  as  if  the  calamity  was  impending,  letting  oif  a  cheerful 
sigh. 

"  Lose  him  ?"  said  Hyland. 


.1   NEW  ENTERPRISE.  121 

"Yes,  sir.  I  tliink  I  must  sell  out.  Forty  pound  offered  for  the 
"whole  rig.  There  is  Carsel  Dane.  You  can  see  the  tower  through 
the  trees.  Good  day  for  views.  Sun  not  too  bright.  No  breeze 
to  spoak  of.  I  know  a  gent  as  will  take  a  do/en  views  of  Car- 
sel Dane.  In  Bristol,  lie  wants  some  views  of  Clifton  Downs, 
too.  How  much  do  you  know  of  the  art,  sir?  Armachure,  I 
suppose'.*'' 

"  Yes.  No.  Not  exactly.  I  have  been  doing  some  surveying, 
and  had  to  take  some  photographs  to  illustrate  my  reports.  But  I 
am  quite  clumsy." 

"  Easy  as  winkin',  sir,"  said  Mr.  Holly.  "  It  wouldn't  do  to  say 
that  either,  to  everybody.  My  customers  think  Timothy  Holly  can 
bang  the  world  on  views  !  But  it  is  all  in  focus,  and  good  chemicals. 
Stop,  Tommy !  I  must  open  the  gate."  And  he  slid  down  from 
his  perch,  opene<l  a  gate  on  the  roadside,  and  held  it  while  the  pony 
walked  soberly  into  the  lane.  Refastening  the  gate,  he  resumed  his 
seat,  and  Tommy  resumed  his  jog-trot. 

"  It  is  a  fine  old  park,"  observed  Mr.  Holly;  "  but  a  good  bit  run 
down.  It  has  been  let  for  a  long  time,  twenty  years  or  more.  But 
the  owner  is  back  now,  and  it  will  be  put  in  order,  I  fancy.  Belongs 
to  Colonel  !Mordaunt.  Old  house  over  there  on  the  right.  I  know 
every  inch  of  this  ground !  Used  to  be  a  grand  place,  but  there 
were  some  family  troubles — let  me  see:  it  was  in  1840.  Nigh 
twenty-five  years  ago.  My  father  was  steward  of  this  estate,  and  I 
was  born  close  by  the  park  gates.  Not  where  we  came  in.  It  is  on 
the  other  road.     If  you  like,  I  can  tell  you  the  story." 

"  No  family  secrets,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Hyland,  doubtfully. 

"  Bless  you,  no  !  That  is,  not  exactly  secrets.  Of  course  my 
father  knew  a  lot  of  things,  being  steward,  that  everybody  did  not 
know.  But  there  was  no  bloody  murders  or  anything.  The  Mor- 
daunts  were  always  a  stuck-up " 

"I  know  Colonel  Mordaunt,"  said  Hyland,  interrupting  him, 
"  and  he  is  my  friend." 

"And  a  first-class,  A  one,  gent!"  continued  the  artist.  "I  meant 
no  offence.  The  ]Mordaunts  were  always  proud  and  rather  haughty, 
as  they  had  the  right  to  be.     vVnd  the  family  trouble  began " 

"  Ah,  here  is  the  ruin  !"  Siiid  Hyland  ;  "  Tommy  has  stopped 
without  orders,  I  suppose  he  knows  when  he  reaches  the  proper 
locality  for  views?" 

"  He  knows  when  he  gets  to  good  grass,"  said  the  other.  "  I'll 
let  him  pick  a  bit  here  in  the  lane.     There  is  a  gap  in  the  hedge 


122  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

just  beyond.  I'll  get  out  the  camera.  Here  is  the  tripod,  under 
the  seat." 

"  Give  me  that  and  the  camera,"  said  Hyland.  "  I'll  take  them 
in  while  you  prepare  the  plate." 

"All  right,  sir.  I'll  follow  you  in  a  minute.  There,  Tommy, 
nip  away." 

In  the  course  of  the  next  hour  Hyland  had  taken  several  views 
of  Castle  Dane,  moving  the  tripod  from  place  to  place,  and  exhibit- 
ing so  much  judgment  in  his  selection  of  sides  and  angles,  that  Mr. 
Holly  was  profuse  in  his  praises. 

"  You  don't  need  any  lessons  from  me,  sir,"  said  he,  as  he  ex- 
amined the  last  view ;  "  leastways  not  in  this  part  of  the  work. 
You  have  got  the  best  positions  every  time,  and  the  negatives  are 
perfect.     You  know  how  to  manage  the  bath " 

"Yes,  I  think  I  do.  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  finish  these, 
and  then  I  will  buy  a  dozen  or  two." 

"  Wish  you  would  buy  the  lot !"  said  the  artist,  earnestly.  "  My 
stars !  what  a  lucky  day  it  would  be  for  me  and  Nanny  if  you  would." 

"  Nanny  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  That  is  ray  Avife.  When  I  left  her  this  morning,  she 
said,  '  Tim,  if  you  meet  a  customer  for  your  whole  rig,  don't  higgle 
over  a  pound  or  two,'  said  Nanny,  *  because,'  said  she,  '  a  week  is 
worth  more  than  a  five-pun'  note,'  says  Nanny." 

"  I  do  not  understand  why  you  wish  to  sell,"  said  Hyland,  cau- 
tiously, "  and  I  do  not  see  what  I  could  do  with  your  rig  if  I  bought 
it.  And  if  I  coveted  this  exact  rig,  I  could  not  consent  to  buy  it 
from  you  when  you  are  pressed  to  sell.  I  could  not  speculate  upon 
your  necessities." 

"  You  are  going  to  smoke,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Holly.  "  Sit  down 
here  in  the  shade.  Thank  you,  sir !  This  is  a  queer  cigar,  cut  off 
at  both  ends.  Which  end  must  I  light?  Either?  Well,  that's 
jolly  !     Cheroot  you  call  it.     Prime  !" 

"  Now,  sir,  I'll  tell  you  my  necessities,  as  you  call  'em.  Nanny 
is  an  orphan,  and  she  has  a  twin  brother.  They  were  never  sepa- 
rated until  we  were  married,  and  then  John  had  a  good  offer  in 
Australia.  So  he  sailed  a  year  ago,  and  he  keejxs  writing,  does 
John,  to  Nan  about  the  climate  and  the  kangaroos,  and  telling  her 
to  bring  me  out  there,  until  the  poor  girl  is  pining  to  go !  I  sup- 
pose tM'in  children  are  fonder  of  each  other  than  common  children. 

"  So  I  have  been  looking  about  for  a  chance  to  sell.  A  chap  in 
Glo'ster  offered  me  forty  pound  last  week,  and  Nan  thinks  I  ought 


A   A'EW  ENTERPRISE.  123 

to  take  it.  But  Tommy  is  worth  nji^h  forty  pound  himself.  Not  a 
blemish,  sir !  If  I  could  sell  out,  Nan  and  I  would  be  on  the  water 
in  a  week.  A  regular  liner  sails  next  Saturday.  Bless  you,  Nan 
keeps  a  watch  on  the  Australian  lines!  John  says  I  can  make 
money  taking  views,  or  I  can  be  foreman  on  a  sheep- farm  at  good 
waives,  and  have  my  own  horse.  That  is  the  whole  story  of  my 
necessities. 

"  I  am  sure  I  can't  say  why  you  should  buy  me  out !  Exce{)t 
that  vou  are  a  gentleman,  and  ])crhaps  have  plenty  of  money.  You 
couldn't  smoke  this  kind  of  double-enders  if  you  hadn't!  And 
then,  if  you  want  to  roam  about  the  country,  promiscuous,  why, 
here  vou  are!  You  can  take  views  anywhere  you  like.  I  have  a 
license " 

"  But  I  cannot  buy  your  license." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Holly,  meditating.  "  But,"  he  continued,  bright- 
ening up,  "  I  can  tell  you  what  you  can  do.  You  can  take  pictures 
under  my  license.  Timothy  Holly  will  employ  you — say  for  a  year. 
No  gentleman  could  stick  longer  than  that.  And  you  shall  have  for 
wages  all  you  can  make  on  the  pictures." 

''  What  is  the  value  of  your  '  rig,'  my  friend  ?"  said  Hyland. 

"Sixty  pound.  And  I'll  take  anything  over  forty.  You  can 
have  the  run  of  the  British  Isles.  And  Tommy  will  take  to  you 
just  like  a  dog.  My  stars !  If  I  was  a  single  gentleman,  with 
enough  money  to  buy  bread  and  cheese,  and  such  an  eye  for  views  as 
you  have,  sir- 


"  When  do  you  desire  to  sell  ?"  said  Hyland,  quietly.  He  had 
made  up  his  mind. 

"This  minute,"  replied  Mr.  Timothy  Holly,  starting  up  and 
stamping  on  the  sod.  Hyland  took  out  his  pocket-book  and  counted 
twelve  five-pound  notes  into  the  hand  of  his  interlocutor. 

"Now,  Mr.  Holly,"  said  Hyland,  "you  have  writing  materials 
there  in  your  box.  jNIake  out  the  necessary  papers.  Endorse  on 
vour  license  authority  for  me  to  show  if  I  am  questioned." 

"What  name,  sir,  please?"  said  Mr.  Holly,  after  some  laborious 
scratching  with  his  pen.     The  poor  fellow  was  half  crazed  with  joy. 

"Name?  Certainly.  Jack  Robinson.  You  had  better  write  it 
John." 

"  Never  found  it  so  hard  to  write  in  my  life,"  said  Mr.  Holly, 
signing  his  name  with  a  flourish.  "There  you  are,  sir,  Mr.  John 
Robinson,  with  my  compliments,  and  wishing  you  the  best  of  luck. 
My  stars!     How  can  I  tell  Nan!     She  will  hardly  believe  me. 


124  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Sixty  pound !  Full  value,  and  no  heart-burnings.  I  don't  know 
what  game  you  are  up  to,  sir,  but  I  do  know  you  are  a  true-grit 
English  gentleman.  If  you  are  just  idling  about  the  country  to  kill 
time,  you  could  not  have  a  pleasauter  lay  than  this.  When  it  rains 
you  can  put  up  the  gig  top  and  unroll  the  apron,  and  there  you  are 
— water-proof.     The  box  is  water-tight  too." 

"  A^^ell,"  said  Mr.  John  Robinson,  when  the  other  paused  to  take 
breath,  "  I  am  sole  proprietor  of  this  extensive  establishment.  My 
friend,  I  had  no  thought  of  buying  five  minutes  ago." 

"Very  likely,  sir.  I've  seen  many  a  gent  go  off  sudden-like 
before  to-day.  Nan  will  be  sorry  to  part  with  Tommy,  but  Tommy 
could  not  take  her  to  her  brother." 

"  Perhaps  he  will  take  me  to  mine,"  said  Hyland,  thoughtfully. 
"Who  knows?" 

"  Tommy  is  used  to  a  good  rubbing  down,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Holly, 
"  and  of  course  you  can't  do  that.  But  wherever  you  put  up  you 
can  give  the  'ostler  a  sixpence,  and  tell  him  to  spread  it  all  over 
Tommy  in  an  extra  rub.  And  when  you  are  alone  on  the  road  you 
can  talk  to  Tommy — anything  you  like — and  he'll  never  tell  your 
secrets.  Bless  you!  he  understands  all  you  say,  though.  I  suppose 
you'll  hardly  believe  it,  sir,  but  when  I  came  out  of  the  stable  this 
morning  I  just  said, '  Tommy,  we  are  going  to  Bristol  to-day.'  And 
I  never  touched  the  reins  !  He  just  turned  off  to  the  left  and  trotted 
up  this  road." 

"  I  will  cultivate  Tommy's  friendship,"  said  Mr.  Robinson,  '*  and 
wmII  adhere  to  your  method  of  driving.  Unfortunately,  I  cannot 
announce  my  intentions  so  decidedly,  as  I  do  not  know  where  I  am 
going." 

"  Leave  it  to  Tommy,  then,"  replied  the  other,  confidently  ;  "  he 
will  take  you  right.  There's  always  good  luck  in  trusting  him. 
Did  he  not  bring  me  to  you  this  blessed  day?  Go  on  to  Bristol, 
sir.  There  is  a  lot  of  views  there.  And  to  Clifton.  No  end  of 
views  there.  My  stars !  Isn't  it  odd  now,  sir,  that  you  should 
have  taken  these  views  of  Carsel  Dane,  right  here  on  the  Mordaunt 
lands?" 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Hyland,  bewildered. 

"  Why,  these  views,  and  what  we  were  saying  awhile  ago  about 
the  Mordaunts.  My  stars !  I  must  tell  you  that  story."  And  he 
sat  down  again,  M'hile  Hyland  lighted  a  fresh  cheroot. 

"What  story?" 

"  About  the  Mordaunts  and  their  Clifton  picture." 


"^A 


THE  MORD AUNTS.  125 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

The  Mordaunts. 

HEX  I  ^vns  a  mere  kid,  sir,"  began  Mr.  Holly,  "I  lived 
over  there,  about  a  mile  beyond  the  fir  plantation  at  the 
park  gates.  There  "vvere  three  Monlannts  in  the  big  house:  two 
brothers  and  a  sister.  They  were  all  stately  kind  of  people,  but  as 
kind  to  the  jioor  as  eould  be.  INIy  father  was  steward,  and  knew  all 
about  tlie  estate,  just  as  well  as  the  lawyers.  The  estate  is  named 
Carsletlane,  after  this  old  ruin,  I  suppose,  and  was  left  by  will  to  the 
*two  brothers  or  tlie  survivor  of  them,'  with  a  charge  upon  the 
estate  equal  to  one-third  of  its  revenues  in  favour  of  Miss  Mor- 
daunt.  My  father  knew  all  this,  because  he  had  to  distribute  the 
revenues  under  the  will. 

"The  elder  brother,  Mr.  Horace  Mordaunt,  was  a  very  quiet 
gentleman,  and  lived  among  his  books.  The  other,  Mr.  Dane  Mor- 
daunt, was  a  liery  young  fellow,  always  getting  into  scrapes,  but 
always  coming  out  of  them  heads  up.  I  think  they  would  have 
quarrelled,  being  so  different,  only  they  both  doted  on  their  sister. 
They  had  their  own  friends,  of  course;  ^Ir.  Horace  taking  to  book- 
men, who  could  spend  a  week  with  him  in  the  big  library,  and  Mr. 
Dane  taking  to  army-officers,  or  men  who  knew  horses  and  dogs, 
and  could  follow  him  across  country  without  stopping  for  fences. 
Miss  Mordaunt  was  gracious  to  both  sets  of  visitors,  showing  no 
preferences,  but  giving  each  brother's  friends  share  and  share  alike 
of  her  attentions,  as  mistress  of  the  house.  I  can  just  remember 
her.  I  know  I  used  to  think  she  was  exactly  like  the  angels,  only 
wanting  wings.  I  remember  Mr.  Dane,  too,  who  used  to  come 
tearing  down  the  drive  on»  his  iron-grey  horse  every  day,  worrying 
the  old  porter's  life  out,  as  he  had  to  get  the  gates  open  in  time,  lest 
Mr.  Dane  should  leap  his  horse  over  them  !  I  was  most  afraid 
of  Mr.  Horace  though,  for  all  he  was  so  quiet.  Somehow  I  got 
the  idea  that  he  would  be  a  terrible  man  if  his  temper  could  be 
roused. 

"  There  were  two  visitors  who  kept  about  even  with  both  brothers. 
I  mean  they  did  not  take  to  one  and  leave  the  other.  The  oldest 
was  a  rich  manufacturer,  who  was  full  of  knowledge  about  machinery 
and  chemicals,  and  mines,  and  everything  else.  His  name  wius  Mr. 
Brentam.  The  other  was  just  a  plain  country  gentleman,  who  knew 
everything  there  was  in  books,  and  also  everything  about  politics  all 


126  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

over  the  world.  His  name  was  Mr.  Dale.  They  were  both  from 
Somerset,  neighbors  and  friends.  Mr.  Dale  knew  next  to  nothing 
about  business  matters.  He  had  a  moderate  estate,  spent  his  money 
freely,  but  not  recklessly,  and  always  had  the  same  cheerful  smile 
for  everybody.  Mr.  Brentam  knew  everything  about  money  mat- 
ters, and  though  he  was  wonderfully  liberal  in  providing  for  the 
comfort  of  his  tenants  and  workmen,  he  got  richer  every  year, 

"  It  soon  got  to  be  known  that  these  Somerset  gentlemen  were 
rivals.  They  both  wanted  Miss  Mordaunt.  That  much  was  certain. 
But  nobody  could  say  wdiich  one  pleased  the  lady  best,  or  indeed 
whether  she  would  take  either  of  them.  It  also  got  to  be  known 
that  Mr.  Horace  favoured  Mr.  Dale,  while  Mr.  Dane  was  anxious  to 
give  his  sister  to  the  manufacturer.  He  was  at  least  ten  years  older 
than  the  other,  was  a  widower,  was  not  very  handsome  or  stylish, 
but  he  had  the  tin. 

"There  was  an  artist  at  Clifton,  name  of  Morrow,  who  was  get- 
ting celebrated.  He  was  the  first  man  in  these  parts  to  take  stereo- 
scopic views.  Twenty  years  ago  they  were  not  so  common  as  they 
are  now,  but  were  a  real  curiosity.  People  used  to  ride  miles  on 
miles  just  to  visit  Morrow's  gallery,  and  my  father  was  lucky  enough 
to  get  me  apprenticed  to  Mr.  Morrow,  having  a  good  word  from 
Mr.  Horace,  and  also  from  ]\Iiss  Mordaunt.  And  it  was  in  my  first 
year  there,  only  a  kid,  when  Mr.  Dale  and  Miss  Mordaunt  came  one 
day  together  to  have  pictures  taken.  They  did  not  want  paper,  they 
wanted  the  old-fashioned  metal.  In  lockets,  too.  Mr.  Morrow  was 
very  polite  and  attentive,  because  these  locket  pictures  were  a  pound 
a  piece,  besides  the  locket.  When  they  had  selected  the  cases,  they 
decided  to  have  the  pictures  taken  out  on  the  Downs.  Miss  Mor- 
daunt objected  at  first,  but  ISIr.  Dale  said  '  he  must  have  the  Ob- 
servatory in  the  background,'  and  at  last  the  lady  consented.  It 
was  quite  early  in  the  day  and  very  few  people  were  out.  I  carried 
the  tripod,  and  the  two  likenesses  were  soon  taken.  Mr.  Dale  gave 
me  half  a  crown.  He  was  remarkably  jolly.  The  lady  was  very 
quiet,  but  she  gave  me  half  a  crown  too.  The  tripod  was  heavy, 
and  I  was  only  a  kid. 

"  I  saw  the  pictures  the  next  day,  after  they  were  fitted  in  the 
lockets.  Each  one  was  full  length,  with  the  Observatory  in  the 
background.  Miss  Mordaunt  had  taken  off  her  hat,  after  many 
denials,  and  her  picture  was  just  prime.  Mr.  Dale's  was  good-look- 
ing enough,  too.  But  old  Morrow  said  he  hated  to  part  with  the 
lady's,  as  it  was  the  loveliest  he  had  ever  taken.     It  sounds  curious 


THE  MOR DAUNTS.  127 

now,  but  he  did  not  know  in  them  days  that  he  couUl  have  made  as 
manv  co|)ie.s  as  lie  pleased  from  the  original  picture. 

"Mr.  Dale  enmo  the  next  day  for  the  lockets.  Mr.  Brentam  was 
with  him.  And  I  remember  "that  Mr.  Dale  borrowed  ten  pound 
from  him  to  pay  for  them,  and  that  Mr.  lirentam  wrote  the  amount 
down  on  a  scrap  of  paper,  and  <]:ot  ]Mr.  Dale  to  sign  it.  He  slipped 
the  ladv's  picture  in  his  pocket,  and  showed  only  his  own  to  Mr. 
Brentam.     Kid  as  I  was,  I  understood. 

"  I  was  at  home  on  the  next  Sunday,  and  my  ftither  asked  me  a 
lot  of  questions  about  the  likenesses,  but  did  not  tell  me  then  what 
had  happened.  He  never  mentioned  family  matters  to  anybody 
while  he  was  steward  of  Carsledane.  But  he  told  me  the  story 
afterwards,  when  everybody  was  gone  and  Carsledane  let  to  strangers, 
and  my  father  was  living  in  Bristol  and  done  with  the  estate. 

"  There  had  been  a  devil  of  a  quarrel  between  the  brothers.  Mr. 
Dale  had  asked  Horace  for  his  sister's  hand.  :Mr.  Brentam  had 
asked  Mr.  Dane  the  same  day.  The  brothers  had  asked  Miss  Mor- 
daunt  to  decide  between  the  gentlemen,  and  she  said  she  had  already 
accepted  Mr.  Dale. 

"  Then  Mr.  Dane  flew  into  no  end  of  a  rage,  and  asked  her  if 
they  had  really  exchanged  lockets,  and  said  the  '  poor  beggar  had 
borrowed  the  money  from  Brentam  to  pay  for  the  pictures.'  Miss 
Mordaunt  said  nothing,  but  she  enclosed  ten  pound  in  a  little  note 
to  Mr,  Brentam  that  same  evening,  and  said  in  the  note  that  she 
would  be  pleased  to  cancel  any  other  obligations  of  ^Ir,  Dale's  that 
he  might  hold.  You  see  the  gentlemen  had  both  quit  Carsle- 
dane, and  were  over  there  at  Bristol,  waiting  to  hear  from  the 
Mordaunts. 

"  That  little  note  made  matters  worse.  Mr.  Brentam  was  insulted,- 
and  withdrew  his  suit.  Mr.  Dane  bought  a  commission  in  a  regi- 
ment that  sailed  for  India  in  a  week,  and  went  off  in  a  rage.  Mr. 
Horace  stayed  long  enough  to  see  his  sister  married,  and  then  he 
bought  a  commission  also,  and  got  exchanged  into  an  Indian  regi- 
ment. Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dale  stayed  here  a  few  months,  and  then  sailed 
for  America,  and  nobody  has  ever  heard  from  them  since.  Mr.  Dale 
was  so  much  in  debt  that  Dale's  >[anor  had  to  be  sold,  and  :Mr. 
Brentam  bought  it.  It  was  dreadfully  mixed  up,  but  there  was 
some  story  about  Mr.  Brentam  calling  on  Mr.  Dale  just  before  the 
sale,  and  offering  to  give  him  Dale's  Manor  free  for  that  Clifton 
picture.  All  this  was  because  Mrs.  Dale  had  stung  him  to  the  quick 
by  sending  the  ten-pound  note. 


128  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  You  see  how  it  is,  sir.  Mr.  Brentani  was  rolling  in  riches,  and 
he  thought  he  could  take  any  lady  he  might  pick  out.  He  had  been 
very  friendly  with  Mr.  Dale,  and  had  lent  him  lots  of  money,  but 
he  always  had  little  slips  of  paper  with  acknowledgments  signed  by 
Mr.  Dale.  Mr.  Dale  said  he  had  paid  these  sums  all  back,  but  was 
careless  or  ignorant,  and  had  not  taken  back  his  acknowledgments. 
Mr.  Brentam  only  pointed  to  the " 

''  If  you  will  excuse  me,  Mr.  Holly,"  said  INIr.  Jack  Robinson, 
"  I  will  venture  to  interrupt  your  story.  I  know  Colonel  Horace 
Mordaunt,  and  I  am  ashamed  of  myself  for  listening  so  long  to 
these  revelations  of  his  private  history.  I  also  know  Mr.  Brentam, 
and  I  do  not  believe  one  word  against  his  honour.  I  do  not  know 
Mr.  Dale,  but  I  have  no  doubt  he  was  unjust  and  cruel  to  suggest 
such  infamous " 

"  Whew !"  said  Mr.  Holly,  with  a  long  whistle,  "  I  beg  your  par- 
don, sir,  but  I  was  only  telling  the  story  as  I  heard  it,  partly  from 
my  father,  when  I  was  only  a  kid.  I  did  not  intend  to  say  as  much 
as  I  did,  but  the  story  of  the  picture  came  to  my  mind  because  I 
was  thinking  of  old  Morrow's  saying." 

"Did  it  relate  to  the  Mordaunts?" 

"  Oh,  no,  sir !  It  was  only  a  queer  notion.  You  see,  sir.  Mor- 
row was  an  old  bachelor,  and  he  hated  women  like  snakes,  though 
he  was  polite  as  a  dancing-master  to  his  customers.  But  he  says  to 
me,  '  Tim,'  says  Morrow,  'you  notice,  whenever  a  cove  has  a  woman 
took  with  the  Observatory  for  a  background,'  says  Morrow,  '  then 
you  notice,  there'll  be  the  devil  to  i)ay  !'" 

"  Observatory  for  a  background  !"  said  Hyland,  starting  ;  "  what 
did  he  mean  ?" 

"  Why,  he  meant  marriage,  sir !  '  I've  took  more  than  a  hun- 
dred,' says  old  Morrow,  '  and  every  one  of  'em  was  a  regular  gone 
case !  Never  knew  a  man  to  have  the  picture  of  a  woman  with  the 
Observatory  in  the  background,'  says  Morrow,  *  that  failed  to  be  a 
gone  goose,  sooner  or  later  !'  " 

"  It's  very  odd,"  said  Hyland,  "  but  I  happen  to  know  of  a 
picture  of  a  gentleman  and  lady,  taken  less  than  thirty  years  ago, 
with  that  very  Observatory " 

"Married,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  certainly." 

"That's just  it!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Holly;  "old  Morrow  was  right, 
you  see.  No  doubt  he  took  that  very  picture  !  And  when  he  took 
Miss  Annot " 


THE  MO RD AUNTS.  129 

"Miss  An  not?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  That  was  Miss  Mordaunt's  name.  '  Tim,'  says  he, 
'mark  my  words!  Here's  another  gone  goose!'  meaning  Mr.  Dale, 
*  lie's  as  good  as  married  !'  says  Morrow.  So  if  you  tiike  any 
pictures  on  Clifton  Downs,  sir,  be  very  careful  about  the  Observa- 
tory !  Ha  !  ha !  It  won't  hurt  you,  sir,  unless  you  keep  the  picture 
yourself.     It  never  hurt  old  Morrow,  for  he  died  single." 

"  Now,  by  this  light !"  said  Mr.  Robinson,  "  I'll  put  this  to  the 
proof!  I  will  take  the  first  woman  I  find  between  me  and  the  Ob- 
servatory, if  she  will  be  still  long  enough  !  And  I  will  put  her  in 
a  locket  and  wear  her  if  she  should  be  ugly  as  Hecate !  If  she  can 
make  me  marry  her,  I  will " 

"Will  what,  sir?" 

"  I  will  sell  my  books,  will  go  to  India,  turn  fakir,  and  sit  in  the 
sun  until  I  am  broiled.  Philosophy  will  have  become  a  delusion. 
Common  sense  will  be  midsummer  madness,  and  human  speech 
will  be  no  wiser  than  the  chattering  of  monkeys." 

"  All  right,  sir!"  said  Mr.  Holly,  cheerfully.  "  It  is  all  foolish- 
ness, of  course.  But  when  I  first  set  up,  I  used  to  prowl  about  on 
the  Downs  taking  groups  and  the  like.  One  morning  a  lot  of  girls 
got  together  and  bargained  for  a  picture.  Ten  shillings  for  a  single 
head,  with  five  duplicates.  Half  a  crown  each  for  groups  of  six, 
with  five  duplicates.  They  got  me  down  to  two  shillings  apiece, 
and  then  took  their  positions.  Would  you  believe  it,  sir!  when  I 
squinted  through  the  camera  one  girl  was  in  the  field,  a  little  apart, 
and  I  just  took  her  first.  Then  I  changed  the  negative  and  took 
the  group.  After  I  had  finished  up  the  pictures  and  got  my  twelve 
shillings,  I  took  the  first  })late  out  and  made  a  separate  picture,  and 
there  was  the  Observatory  in  the  background  !" 

"  Well  ?" 

"You  see  I  had  moved  the  tripod  M-hen  I  took  the  group,  and  the 
Observatory  was  two  hundred  yards  off.  So  an  inch  to  the  right  or 
left  threw  it  out  of  the  field."  ' 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Robinson,  impatiently,  "what  of  the  single 
picture  ?" 

Mr.  Holly  took  out  his  ]X)cket-lx)ok,  unwrapped  a  carte,  en- 
veloped in  tissue-paper,  and  handed  it  to  the  other. 

"A  fine,  honest,  English  face,"  said  Mr.  Robinson.  "So  you 
kept  the  carte?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Holly,  replacing  the  picture,  "and  I  mean 
to  keep  it  while  I  live.     That  is  my  Nan,  sir." 

9 


130  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"What!"  said  Hyland,  starting  to  liis  feet.  "Do  you  mean  to 
tell  me  that  you  married  that  girl  ?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  answered  Holly,  with  a  complacent  grin.  "Of 
course,  the  Observatory  had  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  but  I  just  kept 
that  picture  in  my  ])ocket  wherever  I  went.  I  never  saw  any  one 
of  the  girls  before  that  morning.  I  never  saw  any  one  of  them 
since,  except  Nan,  and  I  stumbled  on  her,  promiscuous-like,  down 
there  in  Bath.  I  had  just  bought  Tommy,  and  had  put  him  in 
the  stable,  and  was  on  my  way  to  my  lodgings,  about  sundown. 
I  saw  a  half-drunken  fellow  annoying  a  girl,  who  was  trying  to  get 
away  from  him,  and  I  persuaded  him  to  leave  her  alone,  and  then 
I  took  her  home.  She  ^vas  apprenticed  to  Madame  Nash,  the 
milliner.  I  was  took  up  the  next  morning  for  assault — you  see  I 
had  to  tap  the  brute  on  the  nose  to  get  the  girl  away — and  Madame 
Nash  got  me  out  of  limbo.  It  was  six  months  after  that  when  I 
showed  Nan  that  picture." 

"  Mr.  Holly,"  said  Hyland,  "  I  will  amend  my  resolution  in  one 
respect.  If  the  first  woman  should  happen  to  be  particularly  hid- 
eous, I  will  allow  her  to  escape.  And  now,  shall  I  drive  you  back 
to  Bath  ?" 

"  Which  way  are  you  going,  sir  ?"  said  Mr.  Holly. 

"  I  am  going  to  Clifton.  I  have  a  curiosity  to  see  that  Observa- 
tory." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Holly,  "if  you  will  drop  me  at  Ganton,  I 
will  take  the  train  down.  It  is  on  your  road,  and  I  will  get  to  Bath 
sooner  than  Tommy  would  take  me.  Shall  we  start  now?  Ho! 
Tommy !  You  have  a  new  master  wow,  old  fellow,  and  I'll  go  bail 
for  him." 

When  Mr.  Holly  slid  down  at  Ganton  he  shook  hands  with  the 
ncAv  proprietor  at  parting. 

"  It  has  plagued  me  a  little,  sir,"  he  said,  with  a  film  over  his 
cheerful  eyes,  "to  think  you  maybe  bought  my  kit  because  you 
wished  to  help  a  fellow.  No?  Well,  it  was  a  great  kindness,  any- 
way, and  my  Nan  will  pray  for  you  every  day  of  her  life.  I  wrote 
my  brother-in-law's  address  on  the  back  of  that  certificate,  and  if 
you  would  just  drop  me  a  line  out  there,  and  say  how  you  get  along, 
and  how  Tommy  is,  I  w'ill  be  grateful.  And  when  you  go  to  Clifton, 
if  you  don't  want  to  stop  at  the  big  hotels,  I  can  recommend  jNIrs. 
Noils.  She  is  a  widow,  and  has  a  spare  room  to  let,  just  across  the 
high  bridge.     Tommy  will  take  you  straight  to  her  gate." 

"  Many  thanks,  Mr.  Holly,"  said  Hyland.     "  Do  not  be  concerned 


COURTING.  131 

about  Tommy.  I  will  be  his  friend.  I  will  go  to  Mrs.  Noils's  as 
you  sugj>;est." 

*' Aiul,  sir — there  comes  the  train!  I've  only  a  minute  Toft. 
But  when  yoii  do  write — Timothy  Holly,  in  care  of  John  lirund, 
Murrigattee,  Adelaide — would  you  mind  telling  me  what  comes 
of  it  ?" 

"Comes  of  what?" 

"  Why — hi !  here's  the  train  !  Good-bye,  sir!  the  best  of  luck  ! 
I  mean  what  comes  of  your  Clifton  picture  ?" 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Courting. 

A  "WEEK  after  the  battle  at  Long  INIeadow,  Dale's  Manor  was 
■^-^  dejiopulated.  There  were  some  domestic  animals  left,  in- 
cluding a  dozen  venerable  hens,  but  all  the  chickens  that  had  cracked 
their  shells  in  the  previous  spring-time  had  become  fries,  broils,  and 
pies,  and  had  nourished  the  fast  recovering  invalids.  On  the  train 
for  Charleston  M-ere  Mr.  and  Miss  Dale,  Mr.  Miles  and  Mr.  Boston. 
The  latter  had  discovered  Miles's  devotion,  and  beguiled  Mr.  Dale 
into  the  smoking-car,  leaving  Annot  and  Miles  to  their  meditations. 
There  had  been  very  little  private  conference  between  them  since  the 
interview  recorded  in  a  previous  chapter.  The  lady  had  been 
constantly  occupied  making  preparations  for  the  journey,  and  all 
that  ]Miles  had  been  able  to  get  during  the  busy  days  was  an  occa- 
sional interchange  of  glances;  his  full  of  adoration,  and  hers  shy 
and  demure  as  possible. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  hope.  Miss  Dale,"  he  said,  as  her  father 
left  the  car,  "and  have  watched  for  one  encouraging  look  from  you. 
I  don't  think  I  got  it." 

"  You  did  not  answer  my  last  remark,  Mr. — my  lord." 

"We  were  interrupted,"  he  answered.  "You  say  *my  lord.'  If 
I  might  call  you  '  my  lady,'  I  would  be  willing  to  reliiupiish  all  my 
possessions  for  the  privilege.  Will  you  please  let  me  be  plain  Miles 
to  you  ?" 

"  You  are  Lord  Rayneford,"  she  said,  "  are  you  not?" 

"  My  name  is  Miles." 


132  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Father  told  me  that  dreadful  day,  when  you  had  gone  to  Long 
Meadow,  that  you  were  one  of  the  Raynefords  of  Hawkley.  He 
knCw  you  by  a  dozen  proofs.  He  said  you  had  a  brother,  who  had 
inherited  the  title  probably,  and  you,  being  a  younger  son,  had 
changed  your  name  when  you  undertook  your  present  adventure. 
He  knew  the  late  Lord  Kayneford,  and  to-day  he  said  he  could  see 
a  striking  resemblance  to  him  in  you.  When  you  told  me  the  other 
day  that  your  brother  was  the  younger,  I  knew  you  were  the  present 
Lord  Rayneford." 

'*  I  am  under  a  promise  to  remain  Mr.  Miles  until  I  return  to 
England.  I  will  not  contradict  you,  however.  Indeed,  I  should  liave 
told  you  all  my  history,  because  no  promise  could  bind  me  to  keep 
a  secret  from  you.  When  I  made  the  compact,  it  was  stipulated  that 
the  woman  I  asked  to  be  my  wife  should  be  informed  of  all  I  might 
desire  to  tell  her.  We  have  known  each  other  but  a  few  days,  and 
yet,  events  have  happened  in  this  short  acquaintance  that  make  up 
for  longer  intercourse.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  know  you  more  inti- 
mately than  I  know  any  one  else  in  the  world,  except  Hyland.  I 
am  sure  I  shall  never  love  any  woman  but  you.  If  you  can  say  I 
may  continue  loving  you,  I  will  not  ask  any  more,  until  you  know 
me  better." 

She  looked  away  from  his  glowing  eyes,  which  were  giving  the 
lie  to  his  moderate  speech  all  the  time.  The  bright  country  swept 
back  as  the  train  sped  onward,  and  all  the  face  of  nature  looked 
more  beautiful  to  her  eyes  than  ever  before.  It  was  not  so  much  the 
consciousness  of  owning  a  devoted  lover  that  added  the  bloom  to 
her  cheek,  as  the  growing  consciousness  that  she  was  being  owned  by 
him.  She  was  not  the  least  bit  dazzled  by  his  title.  On  the  con- 
trary, she  was  sorely  disappointed  when  the  truth  flashed  upon  her 
mind,  three  days  ago. 

"If  you  had  only  been  plain  Mr.  Rayneford,"  she  murmured, 
turning  to  him,  at  last,  "  then  I  might  have " 

"  What,  Annot?" 

"  I  would  have  promised  never  to  marry  any  other,  perhaps." 

"And  would  that  promise  be  made  because  you  could  love  plain 
Mr.  Rayneford  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  You  had  made  me  like  you  so  well,  that  I  could 
not  love  any  other.     Never !" 

"  And  you  cannot  like  Lord  Rayneford  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  But  it  does  not  seem  proper — please  don't  look  at 
me  that  way — it  does  not  seem  proper  for  me  to — to  take  you  at  dis- 


COURTING.  133 

advantaiTC.  You  are  awav  tVom  friciuls  ami  kiiulred,  and  the  swift 
rush  of  events  you  just  referred  to  has  carried  you  away  from  your 
ordinarv  j)rudeiK'e  and  sense  of  projiriety.  You  have  fou<i;ht  for 
me.  You  cherished  pity  for  nie,  thinking  I  had  my  life  desolated 
by  the  death  of  Captain  Stanly.  You  are  so  kind  and  unselfish 
that  vou  suffered  great  ))ain  in  thinking  of  the  terrible  pain  your 
message  from  the  dying  man  would  inflict  upon  me.  Please  look 
out  the  other  window.     I  cannot  talk  wliile  you  glare  at  me." 

"  I  camiot !  Do  you  remember  what  Toby  said  yesterday  when 
vou  gave  him  tliat  enormous  chicken-pie,  and  bade  him  be  careful 
of  his  steps  T 

"  No." 

"  He  said,  '  Miss  Annie,  my  eyes  done  sot !'     Please  go  on." 

"  Every  person  in  the  car  can  tell  what  you  are  saying " 

"  I  am  sjiying  nothing.  There  are  only  two  old  ladies  behind  us, 
and  they  are  four  seats  distant.  The  persons  in  front  of  us  cannot 
see  out  of  their  back  hair.  I  mtist  look  at  you  !  If  I  close  my  eyes, 
I  still  see  you.  Even  when  I  sleep,  you  are  present  in  my  dreams; 
and  when  I  waken,  though  surrounded  by  the  blackness  of  dark- 
ness, the  same  vision  of  loveliness  illuminates  my  chamber.  I  hear 
your  voice  in  the  wind  or  the  rainfall,  and  if  all  is  still  around  me, 
I  still  hear  you  in  the  throbbings  of  my  heart,  where  you  live." 

She  listened,  entranced.  The  warm  blood  spread  over  her  pleasant 
countenance  while  he  spoke,  and  she  glanced  timidly  at  his  honest 
eyes,  which  were  endorsing  his  words  with  emphasis. 

"  I  am  so  ignorant  of  the  forms  of  courtship,"  he  continued,  "  that 
I  make  no  progress.  I  do  not  know  what  to  say,  except  that  you 
are  all  my  life.  If  I  cannot  win  you,  I  know  perfectly  well  that  I 
shall  walk  apart  while  my  life  is  prolonged,  trying  to  perform  my 
duty  as  becomes  a  man,  but  with  no  sunshine  upon  my  path.  If  I 
can  win  you,  it  seems  to  me  that  there  are  no  impossibilities  in  my 
future.  If  this  eager  desire  to  possess  you  is  merely  selfish,  I  mis- 
take my  own  feelings.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  be  the  single 
desire  of  my  heart  to  make  you  liappy.  I  can  imagine  no  self-denial 
in  this  either,  because  I  could  know  no  happiness  that  failed  to  give 
you  pleasure.  I  could  find  no  gratification  in  pursuits  where  your 
sympathies  were  wanting." 

She  made  no  reply,  but  listened  with  downcast  eyes.  She  could 
not  venture  to  meet  his  eyes  now.  She  wondered  if  the  music  of 
"  Annie  Laurie"  seemed  as  sweet  to  him  as  his  calm  accents  seemed 
to  her. 


134  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  I  do  not  answer  your  remark  about  friends  and  kindred.  I  am 
my  own  master,  and  need  ask  no  one.  But  if  I  had  to  please  others 
by  my  choice,  there  is  no  woman  in  the  workl  who  would  rival  you ! 
My  brother  has  been  nearer  to  me  than  all  the  world  besides  until 
now.  And  you  have  supplanted  him.  AVhen  I  tell  you  I  love  you 
more  than  I  love  Hyland,  I  have  said  more  than  I  ever  said  before. 
But,  Annot,  this  is  not  like  other  loves.  I  cannot  think  of  you  as 
having  any  separate  interests  from  mine.  In  spite  of  your  cold- 
ness  " 

She  just  shot  one  look  at  him.  It  struck  him  between  the  eyes 
and  went  whirling  through  his  brain  like  a  rifle-ball. 

"  I  was  saying,"  he  stammered,  "  that — that  you  could  not  appre- 
ciate my  feeling  of  identity — unless  you  loved  me.  And  I  could 
not  expect  you  to  love  me,  at  least  not  in  the  degree  that  is  requisite, 
until  I  learn  to  court  you  less  clumsily.  I  have  thought,  indeed,  if 
I  could  marry  you  at  once,  to-day,  that  the  remainder  of  my  life 
would  only  be  one  unceasing  courtship.  Because  I  long  for  such 
a  Avealth  of  love  from  you !  If  I  had  known  you  a  long  time, 
and  if  there  were  no  shyness,  and  no  feeling  of  strangeness  sepa- 
rating us,  I  should  still  see  that  nothing  but  an  entire  life  of  devotion 
could  earn  from  you  the  love  I  covet  so  hungrily." 

It  is  highly  probable  that  Annot  would  have  remained  silent  if 
the  train  had  jumped  the  track  and  gone  ploughing  through  the  pine 
forest.  Her  feeliners  were  not  dissimilar  from  those  of  the  man  who 
has  taken  too  much  champagne  for  the  first  time.  There  is  a  novel 
exhilaration,  with  a  faint  suspicion  of  coming  inebriety,  and  a  vague 
dread  of  impropriety — a  vague  distrust  of  one's  tongue,  inducing  the 
conclusion  that,  on  the  whole,  silence  is  golden.  But  with  this  there 
is  a  warm  glow  over  the  entire  organism,  mental  and  physical,  that 
breeds  contentment.  It  is  not  easy  to  describe,  but  you  probably 
understand. 

"  I  retort  your  suggestion,"  said  Miles,  "  that  I  have  mistaken 
ordinary  or  even  extraordinary  sympathy  for  warmer  emotions. 
You,  having  a  high-bred,  generous  nature,  feel  excessive  gratitude 
for  such  service  as  you  say  I  have  rendered.  Therefore  you  are  re- 
luctant to  appear  ungracious,  and  so  you  listen  with  patient  courtesy 
to  me." 

Another  shot  from  slightly  humid  eyes  made  his  heart  bound. 

"Because,"  he  continued,  "there  was  really  nothing  in  my  acts 
beyond  those  that  the  ordinary  instincts  of  manhood  would  prompt. 
I  did  no  good.     Probably  I  incensed  the  villains  by  my  assault,  and 


COURTING.  135 

luaile  tlicMii  riuk'r  in  their  treatment  of  you.  I  cannot  plead  anytliinj^ 
tiiat  1  luive  done.  I  can  only  say  1  love  you,  and  ask  you  to  love 
me  in  requital." 

"  Listen  !"  she  said,  turning  suddenly  to  him  :  ''  I  have  not  the 
courage  to  assume  the  position  you  oiler  me.  I  am  not  accomplished 
enough  for  Lady  Rayneford.  I  do  not  like  fashionable  life.  1  have 
always  belonged  to  my  father,  and  cannot  belong  to  another.  All 
my  tiustes  and  habits  are  homely,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  see  you 
ashamed  of  me  !     I  should  die  !     If  you  had  been  plain  Mr.  Rayne- 

"•  1  listen,"  he  said,  as  she  paused. 

"  Even  then  I  should  have  doubted.  Because  your  brother  would 
have  been  Lord  Rayneford,  and  you  might  have  to  apologise  to  him 
for  my  lack  of  culture.  I  cannot  be  so  deceitful  as  to  profess  indif- 
ference to  you,  and  I  do  not  think  these  exciting  experiences  you 
speak  of  have  anything  to  do  with  my — my  regard  for  you ;  excoj)t 
so  far  as  they  served  to  reveal  yoiir  nobleness  of  character.  My 
lord,  I  am  sensible  of  the  honour  you  offer  me.  I  am  proud  of  your 
frieiidshij).  If  you  had  been  only  what  you  seemed,  I — perhaps  I 
should  have  been  proud  of  your  love!  That  is,"  she  added,  hur- 
riedly, "after  a  time." 

"  There  are  certain  obstacles  in  the  way,"  said  Miles  ;  "  I  was  so 
unlucky  as  to  be  born  two  years  before  Ilyland,  and  the  laws  of 
England  compel  me  to  take  my  rank.  But  you  are  the  daughter  of 
Windham  Dale  of  Dale's  Manor.  Do  you  know  the  Dales  were 
English  gentry  when  the  Raynefords  obtained  their  title?  Do  you 
know  that  the  Mordaunts  of  Castle  Dane,  to  whom  your  mother 
belonged,  were  the  proudest  race  in  the  south  of  England?  Your 
objection  to  my  rank  is  idle,  Annot.  The  title  has  been  in  my 
family  only  two  or  thiee  generations.  Do  you  not  know  that  every 
motion  of  your  hand,  every  intonation  in  your  speech,  every  senti- 
ment you  utter  bespeaks  your  gentle  breeding?  I  don't  think  I 
could  be  attracted  by  the  loveliest  woman  that  poets  have  ever 
dreamed  of  if  she  were  not  a  lady.  I  would  freely  venture  you  in 
the  company  of  the  haughtiest  women  of  England,  who  are  the 
haughtiest  women  in  the  world,  and  I  should  dread  no  compari- 
son that  might  be  instituted,  leaving  you  to  your  native  instincts. 
If  I  were  the  proudest  duke  in  England,  I  should  feel  honoured  in 
making  you  my  duchess." 

She  had  gone  off  in  a  trance  again.  No  man  had  ever  talked  to 
her  in  this  fashion.    It  was  not  like  the  frivolous  compliments,  half 


136  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

jest  and  half  earnest,  that  she  had  received  from  quondam  admirers. 
It  was  not  like  Stanly's  courtsliip,  which  had  been  far  more  aggress- 
ive than  that  of  Miles,  and  would  easily  have  become  impassioned 
if  her  cold  exterior  had  not  kept  him  in  a  state  of  perpetual  snub. 
But  this  man  talked  with  courtly  grace,  in  dead  earnest  all  the  time, 
and  yet  refraining  from  vows  and  protestations,  while  he  said  such 
astounding  things  to  her.  He  put  aside  her  most  formidable  objec- 
tions with  a  few  plain  words  in  even  tones.  And  the  utter  sin- 
cerity of  all  his  prettiest  speeches  was  constantly  apparent  as  he 
battered  down  her  feeble  defences. 

"  You  spoke  of  Hyland,"  said  he,  after  a  brief  silence.  "  Shall 
I  tell  you  about  Hyland  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered.  She  was  oppressed  by  the  conviction  that 
her  voice  was  not  to  be  trusted. 

'*  I  am  thankful  that  you  did  not  know  Hyland  first !"  said  Miles, 
fervently,  "  because  you  would  never  have  listened  to  me.  When  I 
was  dismissed  by  Mr.  Plimpton,  my  guardian,  I  found  I  had  about 
a  thousand  pounds  a  year.  My  estate  had  been  encumbered  so 
seriously  that  only  retrenchment  and  economy  could  save  it,  and 
during  my  minority  Mr.  Plimpton  had  wisely  managed  my  affairs. 
Hyland  inherited  two  thousand  a  year  from  my  motiier,  which  came 
to  him  two  years  after  my  majority.  His  first  act  was  to  apply  to 
Mr.  Plimpton,  who  is  our  family  solicitor,  to  transfer  his  inheritance 
to  me,  to  aid  in  freeing  Hawkley  from  mortgages.  His  argument 
was  this :  a  foolish  old  grandfather  had  no  right  to  tie  up  a  fortune 
for  him  that  righfully  belonged  to  Lord  Rayneford.  AVhen  he 
found  that  this  would  not  be  allowed,  he  went  to  India  '  to  better  his 
fortunes,'  he  said,  but  really  to  earn  enough  to  free  Hawkley  for  me 
— for  me  !  The  boy  has  no  selfish  desire  or  purpose  in  his  organism. 
Ah,  if  the  woman  I  love  so  tenderly  could  only  love  me  as  tenderly 
as  Hyland  does !" 

"  Belton  Junction !"  bawled  the  conductor.  "  Passengers  for 
Charleston  change  cars!  Refreshments  at  the  depot!  Express 
train  down  in  forty  minutes  !" 

She  took  his  offered  arm  as  thev  moved  down  the  aisle,  though 
she  had  not  heard  a  word  the  conductor  said,  and  as  they  came  out 
in  the  sunlight  she  dropped  her  veil  over  her  face.  They  walked 
silently  along  the  platform,  meeting  her  father  and  Mr.  Boston, 
bond-slaves  to  smoke. 

"  Go  into  the  ladies'  room,  Annot,"  said  Mr.  Dale ;  "  we  will  come 
for  you  when  the  train  arrives.     Come,  Mr.  Miles — smoke !" 


HARDY'S  STORY.  137 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  replied  Miles  ;  "  I  will  watch  over  Miss  Dale." 

"  Ah,  but  you  cannot  enter  there,"  said  Mr.  Dale.  "  Don't  you 
sec  the  prohibition  over  the  door?  'Gentlemen  will  please  take  the 
other  room.'     Come,  we  have  forty  minutes  to  wait." 

"This  train  will  be  off  in  two  minutes,"  quoth  Mr.  ]5oston.  "  In 
two  more  minutes  the  station  will  "be  empty,  as  we  are  the  only 
passengers  for  Charleston.  In  two  more  minutes  that  dusky  damsel, 
kco]Mi)<;  ouard  over  the  ladies'  room,  will  be  asleep.  Meantime, 
my  friend,  you  can  converse  with  Miss  Dale  through  the  window. 
Mr.  Dale  and  I  will  take  our  unwholesome  fumigations  into  the 
'  other  room.'     Come  on,  Mr.  Dale." 

While  the  long,  black  trail  of  smoke  from  the  departing  train  was 
floating  out  of  sight  in  the  pine  woods,  the  "dusky  damsel,"  a  fat 
negress  of  fifty  summers,  waddled  out  with  pitcher  in  hand. 

"  Gwine  to  de  spring,  sah,"  she  said.     "  Back  directly." 

Miles  peeped  in  the  open  door.  Annot  was  standing  at  the  oppo- 
site window.  She  had  thrown  her  veil  back,  and  as  he  crept  towards 
her,  she  turned  her  burning  face  to  him.  He  held  out  his  hand, 
half  delirious,  as  he  read  her  countenance ;  and  she  offered  no 
resistance  when  he  took  hers  and  covered  it  with  kisses. 

"  Oh,  Annot !"  he  said,  "  I  almost  think  you  love  me !" 

"  I  am  afraid  I  do,"  she  murmured;  "and  I  am  afraid  you  love 
your  brother  more  than  me !" 

When  the  black  damsel  returned,  she  nearly  turned  white  with 
horror  at  the  sight  of  a  great  man  not  only  in  the  ladies'  apartment, 
but  actually  kissing  the  lady  with  astounding  industry.  As  Miles 
sneaked  out,  guilty  and  abashed,  he  dropped  a  coin  into  the  hand 
of  the  indignant  negress. 

"  Golly  !"  she  muttered.     "Dis  beats  de  old  scratch  heself !" 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

Hardy's  Story. 

^  I  ^HE  train  stopped  twenty  miles  or  more  west  of  Charleston,  and 
-'-  Mr.  Boston,  ever  restless,  stepped  out  upon  the  platform.  The 
little  village  had  been  transformed  into  a  military  station,  and  a  sen- 
try was  marching  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  ticket-office.  As  Mr. 
Boston  passed  him,  the  soldier  stopped  and  presented  arms. 


138  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Mighty  glad  to  see  you,  sir  !"  said  the  soldier.  "  Hardy  is  down 
Avith  the  fever,  and  he  has  been  asking  for  you  every  time  he  come  to." 

''Hardy?"  replied  the  other — "where  is  he?" 

"  In  hospital,  sir.     There  behind  the  baggage-wagons." 

"  But  I  have  resigned,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Boston,  irresolutely; 
"  besides,  I  should  miss  the  train." 

"  All  aboard  !"  shouted  the  conductor. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  sentry,  "  if  you  go  to  Hardy,  I  reckon  you 
will  have  to  give  up  this  train.  He  is  pooty  bad,  and  I  s'pose  it's  no 
use,  anyhow." 

"Mr.  Dale,"  said  Boston,  "please  hand  my  portmanteau  out  of 
the  window.  It  is  on  the  seat  beside  you.  Ah  !  thank  you !  I 
will  be  in  Charleston  as  soon  as  may  be.     Good-bye !" 

"  Where  shall  I  find  you  ?"  said  Mr.  Dale,  as  the  train  moved 
away. 

"  At  the  Mills  House.     Au  rcvoir .'" 

The  hospital  was  a  Methodist  meeting-house.  The  long  benches 
had  been  utilized  by  turning  them  face  to  face  and  covering  the 
double  seats  with  straw  mattresses.  There  were  a  dozen  soldiers  in 
the  building  in  various  stages  of  convalescence,  nearly  all  of  them 
suffering  from  gunshot  wounds.  Plardy  was  in  a  corner,  remote 
from  the  rest,  and  Mr.  Boston  noticed  the  gleam  of  satisfaction  that 
spread  over  his  face  as  he  approached  him. 

"  Powerful  glad  to  see  you !"  said  the  sick  man,  with  a  feeble  voice. 
"  I  told  the  boys  to  keep  their  eyes  skun,  and  they  mought  see  you. 
All  up  with  me,  Mr.  Boston !" 

"  I  hope  not,  Hardy,"  replied  his  visitor,  cheerfidly.  "  What  is  the 
matter  ?" 

"  Fever !  Not  a  scratch  on  me.  Been  in  ten  battles,  and  not  a 
doffon'd  scratch.  Don't  like  dving  here,  like  a  sick  chicken  !  But 
I  knowed  my  time  was  up  when  Jim  Stanly  got  his  billet !  You 
see,  me  and  Jim  was  raised  together.  My  father  was  overseer  on  his 
father's  plantation." 

"  Fever  is  not  necessarily  fatal,  Hardy,"  said  IVIr.  Boston,  regard- 
ing the  soldier  attentively.     "  What  does  the  doctor  say  ?" 

"He  don't  say  anything.  He  just  feels  my  pulse,  and  goes  on  to 
the  other  boys.     They've  all  been  hurted.     Got  no  k'neen." 

"No  what?" 

"  K'neen.  Fever  stuff.  I  reckon  a  bully  dose  of  that  would 
bring  me  through." 

"  I  will  see  the  doctor  about  you." 


HARDY'S  STORY.  139 

"No  use,  sir!  I'm  a  gone  'coon  !"  replied  the  soldier,  ho|)elessly. 
"  But  I  wanted  to  see  you — I  thought  maybe  you  wouldn't  mind 
seeing  the  old  woman ' 

*'Do  you  mean  your  mother?"  said  Mr.  Boston. 

"  No.  My  wife.  She  lives  in  Raleigh.  You  can  go  there  any 
day  from  Charleston." 

"  I  will  '--o  if  need  be.     You  must  give  me  the  exact  address." 

"  You  won't  know  Polly  in  any  kind  o'  dress,  for  that  matter," 
said  Hardv.  "  She  lives  with  her  folks.  Ask  at  the  Yarboro' 
House.  That's  the  hotel.  You  can  tell  Polly  I  fit  my  best,  and 
got  caught  out  with  fever  at  last." 

"  Hardy,  I  don't  believe  you  are  seriously  ill,"^siiid  his  visitor. 
"  You  seem  to  be  charged  with  last  messages,  thougii ;  so  fire  away  ! 
I  have  had  forty  last  messages  entrusted  to  me  that  the  senders 
corrected  when  they  recovered." 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  about  them  Yanks/'  said  Hardy,  after  a 
little  pause.     "  I  reckon  I'd  die  easier." 

"What  Yanks?" 

"  Them  three  devils  we  gobbled  up  at  old  man  Dale's." 

"  The  robbers  ?" 

"Exactly,"  said  Hardy,  excitedly.  "Please  set  a  little  closer. 
You  see,  them  fellows  weren't  regular  prisoners.  There  was  a  lot 
of  prisoners  that  the  cavaltry  took  off  with  them.  But  the  general 
told  me  and  Sam  Goby  to  take  them  three  to  Haytown  and  deliver 
them  up  to  the  jail  thar.  So  we  started  on  our  tramp  through  the 
woods. 

"Sam  Goby  was  Stanly's  brother-in-law.  He  used  to  be  well 
off,  but  he  was  the  devil  on  whiskey.  I  reckon  he  drunk  her  to 
death.  He  joined  the  army,  of  course,  and  he  mought  have  been  an 
officer,  but  he  could  never  pass  a  whiskey  jug.  So  he  was  always  a 
hi^h  private.  He  was  in  the  guard-house  twenty  times,  but  Stanly 
always  begged  him  off. 

"  it  was  nigh  sundown  when  we  started  from  old  man  Dale's. 
Haytown  is  fifteen  mile,  good.  So  we  had  to  camp  out  one  night. 
We  had  tied  the  three  Yanks  together,  and  made  them  march  ahead 
of  us,  and  we  did  not  have  much  chaince  to  talk  till  camp-time. 
We  knew  all  alx)ut  Haytown.  Sam  had  been  in  the  jail,  and  knew 
that  them  Yanks  could  break  out  easy  the  next  night,  and  we  didn't 
like  the  idea  of  their  prowling  around  the  country.  You  see  thar 
are  no  men  about  thar  but  old  men  and  niggers.  We  thought  it 
was  a  shame  to  waste  them  thieves  when  we  had  'em  all  secure. 


140  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  While  you  were  up-stairs  at  old  man  Dale's  the  officers  were 
out  on  the  front  porch,  and  Sam  was  with  them.  You  see  they 
were  oif  duty  like,  and  he  knew  the  most  of  'em  at  home.  Thar 
were  just  twelve  of 'em,  counting  Sam.  The  general  was  up-stairs. 
Them  twelve  formed  themselves  into  a  jury,  and  sot  on  the  three 
robbers.  And  as  they  had  all  the  facts  right  before  their  eyes,  they 
found  all  three  guilty  in  about  three  minutes.  We  have  a  law  in 
the  army  that  says  any  soger  that  ill  treats  a  woman  mu:st  die,  and 
if  the  general  had  been  a  mile  or  two  off  them  three  murderers 
Mould  have  been  hung  in  half  an  hour.  Sam  told  me  all  this  that 
night,  when  we  were  smoking  our  corncob  pipes.  After  they  had 
sot  on  the  case,  Captain  Green  drew  up  a  paper,  and  they  all  signed 
it,  Sam  Goby  and  all. 

"  The  paper  said  these  three  men  had  been  captured  in  the  act  of 
robbing  a  house.  They  had  shot  an  old  man,  who  had  no  arms. 
They  had  ill  treated  a  lady,  tearing  off  her  watch  and  ear-rings. 
They  had  also  shot  a  young  man,  but  he  was  fighting  them,  and 
thev  did  not  count  that.  And  the  verdict  was  unanimous  to  hang: 
all  three.  They  were  not  prisoners  of  war,  but  were  captured  loaded 
with  the  plunder  taken  from  a  defenceless  house.  And  the  paper 
charged  Sam  Goby  to  see  the  sentence  executed.  Before  we  started, 
Captain  Green  called  Sam  and  me  to  his  bridle,  and  whispered  his 
parting  orders.  *  Men,'  says  he,  '  if  there  is  any  chaince  for  them 
scoundrels  to  git  clear,  see  that  you  lose  them  in  the  woods.'  And 
his  face  was  stern  as  death. 

" '  Now,  Bill,'  says  Sam,  '  thar's  nobody  in  Haytown  to  do  this 
business.  That  jail  wouldn't  hold  a  good-sized  rooster,  if  he  wanted 
to  scratch  himself  out.  The  orders  is  clear.  We  must  lose  these 
devils  to-night.' 

"  I  did  not  feel  quite  clear  about  that.  I  was  quite  willing  to 
shoot  all  three  when  we  had  'em  at  old  man  Dale's,  because  my 
blood  was  up.  So  to  gain  time  I  proposed  to  examine  the  no-ac- 
count sucker  who  s\vore  he  hadn't  shot  anybody  in  the  house.  Sara 
agreed,  and  we  strolled  over  to  his  tree.  You  see  we  had  tied  each 
one  to  a  different  tree,  so  that  they  could  not  contrive  any  deviltry 
without  talking  loud  enough  for  us  to  hear. 

"'Say,  Yank,'  says  I,  'you  said  you  had  not  shot  anybody.  How 
came  one  chamber  of  your  pistol  empty  ?' 

" '  I  shot  that  on  the  hill,'  says  he. 

"  '  What  did  you  shoot  at?'  says  I. 

" '  I  shot  a  fellow  that  came  loping  up  to  ray  gun,'  says  he. 


HARDY'S  STORY.  141 

" '  What  was  he  riding?'  says  I. 

"*A  big  roan  horee,' says  l)e;  'and  I  tumbled  liini  out  of  tlie 
saddle.' 

"  That  was  Jim  Stanly.     Nobody  else  had  a  roan  horse. 

"  We  went  back  to  our  log  and  sot  there,  smoking.  1  was  think- 
ing of  Jim  when  he  was  a  boy.  Sam  was  thinking  of  Jim's  sister, 
I  reckon. 

"  When  our  j)ipes  Mere  out,  Sam  asked  me  if  it  was  all  right.  I 
said  *yes.'  Then  he  went  round  to  the  three  trees  and  told  the  rob- 
bers that  the  night  air  was  deadly  about  thar,  and  they  had  better 
pray  a  little  if  they  knew  how.  He  told  them  we  gave  them  an 
hour,  as  near  as  we  could  measure  the  time.  Sam  had  brought  old 
man  Dale's  clothes-line  with  him,  ami  when  the  moon  was  well 
overhead  we — lost  all  three  of  'em,  and  marched  ten  miles  east,  and 
erawleil  into  a  cotton-gin  and  went  to  sleep. 

"  Sam  Goby  got  a  quart  the  next  day  and  got  raving  drunk.  "We 
had  to  cross  the  river,  but  I  was  took  down  with  this  fever.  So 
Sam  started  alone,  and  missed  the  ford,  and  was  drownded.  And 
nobody  knows  anything  about  them  three  but  you  and  me.  I  reckon 
I  have  killed  a  dozen  men  since  this  war  begun.  But  they  were 
always  doing  their  level  best  to  kill  me!  And  since  we  lost  them 
three  devils  this  fever  has  been  on  me.  Sam  is  gone,  and  I  have  to 
go,  too !" 

The  arrival  of  the  doctor  stopped  the  flow  of  Mr.  Hardy's  grew- 
some  narrative.  After  going  the  rounds  the  surgeon  stopped  a  few 
minutes  at  Hardy's  side,  asked  a  question  or  two,  felt  his  pulses. 
Mr.  Boston  followed  him  out. 

"What  ails  Hardy,  doctor?"  he  asked,  when  they  reached  the 
open  air. 

*'  There  is  some  sort  of  mania — I  am  perplexed  about  the  case. 
He  grows  visibly  worse  day  by  day — says  he  is  dying,  which  is  an 
unfavourable  symptom.  He  has  intermittent  fever  and  nothing  else 
that  I  can  discover.     AVe  are  out  of  quinine." 

"  But  I  am  not !"  said  Mr.  Boston.  "  I  have  a  supply  in  my 
portmanteau." 

"  It  is  worth  its  weight  in  gold,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  any  gold,"  replied  the  other.  "Here,  take 
my  stock.     I  can  replenish  in  Charleston  if  I  need  it." 

"  Two-grain  pills,"  said  the  surgeon,  examining  the  box.  "  Xow, 
Mr.  Boston,  if  you  will  give  Hardy  ten  of  these,  and  quiet  his  mind, 
he  ought  to  get  well." 


142  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Suppose  you  give  him  a  certificate,  and  let  him  go  home  for  a 
month  ?" 

"  Certainly.  I  will  explain  to  the  major,  and  he  will  grant  the 
furlough,  without  doubt." 

"  May  I  tell  him  so?"  asked  Mr.  Boston,  as  the  surgeon  left  him. 

"  I  will  send  the  paper  in  ten  minutes.  The  major  is  quartered 
in  the  nearest  house  there." 

The  perspiration  on  the  sick  man's  forehead  betokened  the  absence 
of  fever,  and  the  ex-hospital  steward  administered  the  prescribed 
remedy. 

"  K'neen  !  by  thunder!"  said  Hardy,  as  he  choked  and  spluttered. 

"  It  is  quinine,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Boston,  "  and  the  doctor  says 
you  will  be  all  sound  again.  Pluck  up  your  courage,  and  dismiss 
your  forebodings.     I  have  a  plan." 

"Ah,"  said  Hardy,  drawing  his  rough  hand  over  his  eyes,  "you 
are  a  true-grit  gentleman  !    Excuse  me,  but  was  you  born  a  Yank  ?" 

"  A  Yank  !"  exclaimed  the  other. 

"  Yes,  sir.  There  are  plenty  of  Yanks  in  our  army  that  were 
raised  among  us.     They  are  nigh  as  good  as  our  own  people." 

"  I  am  an  Englishman,  Mr.  Hardy,"  said  Mr.  Boston,  with  a 
certain  air  of  dignity. 

"  English  !  Well,  well !  "What  in  thunder  have  you  been  plod- 
ding about  with  us  for  ?  English  !  Well,  sir,  a  man  can't  choose 
where  he'll  be  born  !  Everybody  couldn't  be  born  in  North 
Kalliney,  Hoopsy !  But  that  k'neen  is  infernal  bitter  !  Xo  use, 
though  !    Only  wasted  on  me.     Sam  is  gone,  and  I  must  go  too !" 

"Go  where?" 

"  After  them  lost  fellows.     The  trifling  rascals !" 

A  soldier  came  in,  marched  up  to  Mr.  Boston,  handed  him  a 
folded  paper,  touched  his  cap,  wheeled  and  marched  out. 

"  Now,  Hardy,  this  is  my  plan,"  said  Mr.  Boston,  after  glancing 
at  the  paper:  "you  are  demoralized.  The  aifair  out  there  in  the 
Tennessee  woods  weighs  upon  your  mind.  And  I  must  admit  that 
the  story  is  horrible  enough.  But  you  will  not  misunderstand  me 
when  I  say  there  are  extenuating  circumstances.  You  have  a  judge 
here  in  America  who  sometimes  improves  upon  your  ordinary  laws. 
You  call  him — Judge  Lynch." 

"  Yes,  sir.     I  knowed  him  in  Californy." 

"I  think  he  presided  at  the  jury  trial  you  mentioned,  on  Mr. 
Dale's  verandah." 

"  There  was  twelve  of  'em,"  said  Hardy,  "  counting  Sam  Goby.'' 


HARDY'S  STORY.  143 

"Yes.  Aiul  when  you  ami  (}()l)y — lost  the  marauders,  you  ex- 
ecuted their  verdict?" 

Hardy  luiuhled  iu  his  pocket  and  drew  out  a  paper. 

"  Here  is  the  verdict,  sir.  I  thon<;ht  I  would  keep  it.  I  took  it 
from  Sam  when  he  got  tight.     All  their  names  are  to  it." 

"  Well,  keep  it  still.  You  may  need  it  some  day.  Now,  to- 
morrow vou  will  be  well  enough  to  go  out.  Suppose  you  go  to 
Raleigh  ?" 

"  Home  !"  said  the  soldier,  starting  up. 

"  Yes.     Here  is  your  furlough.     One  month." 

"  Hooray  !"  said  Hardy,  with  a  feeble  shout,  "  I'm  well  enough 
now!  Oh,  Mr.  Boston,  I'm  so  sorry  you're  a  ]5ritisher!  You 
ought  to  been  born  in  North  Kalliney !  Heavenly  ]\Iarster  !  If  I 
could  only  wipe  them  three  devils  out  of  my  mind  I  would  die 
happy!" 

"Listen!"  said  the  Englishman:  "Judge  Lynch  is  known  all 
over  this  land  as  the  one  judge  who  knows  no  mercy.  Those  who 
come  before  his  dread  tribunal  bid  adieu  to  hope.  He  has  only  one 
penalty  for  all  offences.  In  my  country  we  have  many  cases  of 
murder,  but  we  have  no  Judge  Lynch.  Heaven  grant  that  he  may 
never  set  his  foot  on  English  soil ! 

"  It  may  be  that  he  is  a  necessity  here.  I  dare  not  utter  a  sweep- 
ing condemnation,  because  he  may  be  a  necessary  evil,  permitted  to 
exercise  spasmodic  authority  here  by  a  wise  Providence.  But  I 
should  rather  be  his  victim  than  his  executioner! 

"  However,  there  is  another  Judge,  who  rules  in  all  lands.  And  all 
cases  come  before  His  tribunal,  sooner  or  later.  And  none  of  the 
sons  of  men  are  pure  enough  to  endure  the  scrutiny  at  that  bar. 
But  the  sentence  of  that  final  court  may  be  evaded,  because  this  just 
Judge  is  merciful,  and  He  has  provided  an  advocate  for  all  the 
wrong-doers  of  earth.     Do  you  understand  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Hardy,  submissively. 

"  Then  tell  your  story  to  this  Advocate.  And  tell  all  the  other 
stories  of  evil  deeds  you  have  committed.  You  may  get  the  entire 
record  erased  at  once  !  You  will  be  well  enough  to  travel  to- 
morrow. I  am  going  to  leave  your  country  very  soon,  and  I  have 
a  supply  of  your  excellent  currency  that  will  not  circulate  beyond 
your  borders.  Oblige  me  by  spending  it  for  me."  And  he  put  a 
roll  of  notes  on  the  mattress,  shook  hands  with  his  interlocutor,  and 
passed  out  of  Hardy's  sight,  now  blurred  with  moisture — forever. 


144  TEE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

Fixing  the  Day. 

"A /FR.  DALE  discarded  the  noxious  weed  when  abandoned  by 
-^-^  Mr.  Boston,  and  passed  into  the  other  car.  Miles  arose 
and  offered  his  seat  by  Annot's  side ;  but  her  father  waved  him  back, 
and  dropped  into  the  seat  behind  them.  There  was  a  cloud  of 
decided  sheepishness  upon  the  young  couple.  Annot  endeavoured 
to  look  dignified.     IMiles  tried  to  look  stern. 

"Been  quarrelling,"  thought  Mr.  Dale;  "it  was  very  thoughtless 
in  me  to  leave  them  together.  This  fiery  youngster  has  offended 
Annot  by  some  war  talk.  She  looks  as  cross  as  she  can,  and  he  is 
evidently  foaming  with  rage." 

There  had  been  an  accession  to  the  passenger  list  at  the  last  station, 
and  the  car  was  tolerably  well  filled.  The  enraged  couple  could  not 
talk  and  listen  as  they  had  done  before,  and  they  were  very  cautious 
about  even  the  exchange  of  glances.  Every  man  and  woman  in  the 
car  seemed  to  have  eight  eyes  and  sixteen  ears.  Whenever  a  mascu- 
line passenger  looked  towards  Annot,  Miles  turned  over  in  his  mind 
various  pretexts  that  might  justify  him  in  cutting  the  onlooker's 
throat.  Gentle  Annot,  catching  the  infection,  and  knowing  by  mag- 
netism what  Miles  thought,  felt  prepared  to  assume  the  role  of  the 
fish  in  "Cock  Robin,"  and  to  hold  the  "little  dish"  to  catch  his 
blood.     Neither  looked  strikingly  amiable. 

"  Suppose  we  reverse  your  seat,  Annot?"  said  Mr.  Dale ;  "  we  can 
converse  much  more  pleasantly." 

The  young  lady  and  Miles  moved  out  into  the  aisle,  and  Mr.  Dale 
turned  the  back  of  the  seat.  Then  it  was  highly  important  that 
Annot  should  not  ride  backwards.  So  she  took  the  window-seat 
next  her  father.  Miles  sat  opposite,  piling  up  sachels  in  the  unoccu- 
pied seat,  while  the  train  sped  on. 

"  Mr.  Boston  left  us  unexpectedly  at  the  last  station,"  observed 
Mr.  Dale.  "He  is  an  extraordinary  man;  has  travelled  all  over 
the  world.  He  was  a  member  of  the  Antarctic  Expedition  under 
Spencer." 

"  Was  he?"  said  Annot,  stealing  a  look  at  her  via-ci-vis,  who  was 
scowling. 

"  Is  he  still  at  it  ?"  muttered  Miles.  This  question  referred  to  a 
spruce  young  gentleman  three  or  four  seats  off,  who  had  been  steal- 
ing furtive  glances  at  the  lovely  woman. 


FIXING   THE  DAY.  145 

"  Occasionally,"  siie  replied. 

"  Suppose  yon  put  your  veil  down  ?"  said  Miles,  spitefully.  And 
the  sun  went  beliind  a  cloud.  The  spruce  yount^  gentleman  looked 
back  once  more,  and  finding  the  grenadine  harrier  imi)enctrahle 
betook  himself  to  the  smoking-car.  Miles  did  not  kick  him  as  he 
passed,  and  therefore  mentally  scored  down  one  good  action  for  that 
day's  record. 

"  I  think  lie  was  in  the  Crimean  War,"  continued  Mr.  Dale,  some- 
what bewildered  by  this  by-play. 

"  Pity  he  didn't  lose  a  leg !"  murmured  Miles.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Mr.  Dale,  of  whom  were  you  speaking?" 

"  Of  Mr.  Boston." 

"  Oh  !"  And  he  twisted  his  neck  round  and  surveyed  the  passen- 
gers' backs.     They  all  seemed  to  be  minding  their  own  business. 

"Miss  Dale,"  said  Miles,  politely,  "don't  you  find  your  veil 
oppressive?" 

"  Dusty,"  she  answered.     She  could  see  him  through  the  veil. 

Miles  swept  the  satchels  from  the  seat,  and  made  room  for  her  by 
moving  away  from  the  window. 

"Do  you  object  to  riding  backwards?  Suppose  you  try  ?  The 
dust  will  not  annoy  you  then." 

"He  is  getting  in  a  better  humour,"  thought  Mr.  Dale,  as  Annot 
changed  her  seat;  "or  maybe  it  is  only  politeness."  Annot  threw 
back  her  veil,  exposing  her  rosy  face.  Miles  glared  at  it  as  if  he 
had  not  seen  it  for  a  month. 

"  Mr.  Boston  is  from  Devon.  But  he  knows  all  our  county  also. 
We  had  quite  a  discussion  as  to  the  relative  beauties  of  Somerset  and 
Devon.     Annot,  you  look  very  warm  !     Where  is  your  fan?" 

Miles  took  up  the  fan,  gave  it  a  preliminary  flirt,  and  she  quietly 
took  it  out  of  his  fingers. 

"  Cross !"  thought  Mr.  Dale. 

"  Do  you  see  that  deceitful  wretch  ?"  whispered  Miles ;  "  over  there, 
three  seats  down.  He  is  pretending  to  read ;  but  he  peeps  over  his 
book  at  you  every  other  minute.     I'll  spoil  his  game  anyhow!" 

So  saying,  he  whisked  out  of  his  seat  and  took  that  beside  Mr. 
Dale,  thus  putting  his  broad  shoulders  between  the  book-man's  eyes 
and  Annot.     The  book-man  gave  it  up. 

"  Twelve  more  miles,"  said  Mr.  Dale ;  "  that  is  a  half-hour.  T 
can  get  one  more  cigar  before  we  reach  the  city.     Come,  ^Ir.  Miles." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  answered  Miles ;  "  but  take  one  of  my  cigars. 
Partagas." 

10 


146  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Boston  filled  my  case  with  pressed  Cabafias,"  said  Mr. 
Dale.     "  You  have  not  smoked  to-day.     Come  !" 

"  I  could  not  endure  a  cigar  to-day.     ]\Iy  head,  you  know." 

"  They  will  fight  again,"  said  Mr.  Dale,  as  he  left  the  car ;  "  but 
they  may  as  well  have  it  out.  Annot  looks  cross  and  he  looks 
sheepish.  I  never  knew  the  child  to  manifest  so  much  temper ! 
Would  not  let  him  fan  her !" 

"Come  over  here,  you  darling  !"  said  Miles;  "turn  your  back 
upon  that  wretched  inebriate,  gazing  at  you  over  his  book.     Come!" 

"  You  are  behaving  horribly,  Mr. — my  lord  !"  said  Annot,  as  she 
complied. 

"  My  name  is  Miles  Rayneford.     Say  Miles  !" 

"  Mr.  Miles." 

"  Not  Mr.  Miles.  That  is  what  my  old  housekeeper  calls  me. 
Yoiir  housekeeper  too,  Annot !" 

They  Avere  very  circumspect,  as  they  had  near  neighbours,  whose 
attention  had  l)een  attracted  by  their  various  changes  in  position.  It 
was  not  decorous  to  whisper  constantly,  yet  it  was  extremely  difficult 
to  remain  silent.  The  things  Miles  wished  to  say  were  of  the  last 
importance,  and  he  was  by  no  means  certain  "they  would  keep" 
until  the  train  reached  the  city.  Besides,  Mr.  Dale  was  happily 
absent,  and  in  Charleston  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  opportunities 
for  private  conference. 

"Annot!"  he  said  at  last,  desperately,  "may  I  call  you  Annot?" 

"  Yes.     That  is,  if  I  may  call  you  my  lord." 

"  But  you  may  not !  Who  ever  heard  of  a  lord  running  block- 
ades ?     When  we  reach  England  you  may." 

"Then  you  are  !Mr.  Miles.  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  call 
you  plain  '  Miles'  ?     Never  !" 

"  I  must  tell  Mr.  Dale  my  true  name.  But  we  cannot  be  married 
under  false  names,  Annot.  I  shall  have  to  tell  the  clergyman  too. 
Do  you  happen  to  know  a  discreet  clergyman  in  Charleston  ?" 

She  looked  curiously  at  his  sober  visage  without  replying.  He 
had  been  talking  of  a  speedy  return  to  England  only  an  hour  ago. 

"  And  the  British  consul  too !"  ejaculated  Miles.  "  The  fact  is, 
Annot,  a  fellow  is  never  safe  when  sailing  under  false  colours.  It 
was  just  a  fit  of  squeamish  folly  and  pride  that  made  me  drop  my 
true  name.  Why  should  I  conceal  my  name  ?  Yet  I  promised  to 
keep  it  secret  as  far  as  possible  until  my  return.  I  did  not  know — 
that  is — I  did  not — or  rather,  had  not  formed  any  matrimonial  plans 
when  I  made  that  engagement," 


FIXIXG    THE   DAY.  147 

She  still  kept  silciieo.  ^va^tinp:  for  a  more  explicit  statement. 

"  I  have  it !  l)v  Jove  I"  said  Miles ;  "  we  will  be  married  on  board 
my  ship,  just  as  we  leave.     1  can  arrange  it  all.     How  stupid  I  was!" 

"When  do  you  think  of  sailing?"  said  Annot,  demurely. 

"Soon,  soon  !  Ah  !  trust  me  to  hasten  matters.  In  two  or  three 
weeks,  my  own  darling!" 

"Don't  you  think  you  might  find  a  clergyman  on  the  train?"  she 
said,  with  superb  composure,  "  or  a  chaplain,  or  magistrate,  or  some- 
thing?" 

"  Heh  ?"  said  Miles,  startled. 

"  I  think  you  are  very  remiss  not  to  provide  an  official  of  some 
sort,"  she  continued ;  "  it  has  been  several  hours  since  you — since 
we  stopped  at  the  station  where — where  you  were  so  rude." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  !"  said  Miles,  hopelessly  bewildered. 

"  Do  you  not  understand  ?  It  is  very  simple.  One  can  never 
tell  when  one  may  meet  a  lady,  engage  in  conversation,  grow  senti- 
mental— propose!  Then  the  next  thing,  of  course,  is  the  clergy- 
man!" 

"  I  see  I  have  played  the — mischief — somehow,"  said  Miles,  hum- 
bly. "  Pray  forgive  me,  and  enlighten  me.  I  thought  you  loved  me. 
I  know  I  love  you.     How  have  I  offended  you  ?" 

"By  talking  so  composedly  of  clergymen  and  consuls,  and  all 
that  other  nonsensical  stuff!"  she  answered,  resentfully.  "  How  dare 
you  !     AVhy,  I  have  only  known  you  a  week  !" 

"  Yet  all  my  life  is  compressed  into  that  week !"  whispered  Miles, 
mournfully. 

Annot  did  not  reply.  She  was  struggling  to  keep  back  the  tears 
that  were  trying  to  come  on  several  accounts.  First,  his  voice  was 
sad,  and  her  swift  sympathy  called  for  tears.  Sympathy  is  always 
inclined  to  be  lachr^-mose,  whether  it  be  joyful  or  sad.  Second,  there 
was  an  instant  response  to  the  last  sentiment  he  had  uttered.  All 
her  life  seemed  to  be  in  that  same  short  w^eek,  and  she  repented  her 
slight  reference  to  that  eventful  epoch.  Third,  there  was  a  kind- 
faced  old  lady  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  car,  who  was  looking  at 
her,  and  if  a  single  tear-drop  should  come,  she  felt  sure  that  old  lady 
would  offer  assistance  or  condolence.  Of  course,  that  reflection  made 
the  tear  more  eager  to  come  !  She  kept  it  back,  however,  by  resolute 
effort. 

What  a  tiger  this  man  was !  He  had  courted  her  most  aggress- 
ively from  the  first,  and  in  an  unguarded  moment  had  forced  her 
to  acknowledge  her  interest  in  him,  and  then  took  her  in  his  strong 


148  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

arms  and  kissed  her!  No  circumspect  approaches,  but  a  direct,  open 
assault ;  so  sudden  that  she  just  began  to  be  conscious  of  the  out- 
rage !     How  handsome  he  was  ! 

"  Do  you  know,  Annot,"  he  said,  composedly,  "  that  I  am  still 
stunned  when  I  think  of  your  affection  for  me  ?  You  say  you  have 
only  known  me  a  week.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  known  you  all 
my  life.  I  cannot  recall  a  time  in  the  past  when  I  have  not  longed 
for  you  !  Because  you  only,  of  all  the  women  I  have  ever  known, 
could  awaken  in  me  the  love  I  must  feel  for  the  woman  I  marr}\ 
How  false  my  life  has  been  hitherto !  I  thought  of  marriage  very 
much  as  I  thought  of  freeing  Hawkley  from  mortgage.  Hawkley 
ought  to  be  free  from  debt,  and  Hawkley  ought  to  have  a  Lady 
Rayneford  !  And  now — now — I  would  be  entirely  happy  if  I 
owned  yonder  hut,  and  I  would  rejoice  in  daily  labour  if  I  could  go 
home  to  you  at  the  close  of  the  day.  I  do  not  value  Hawkley,  ex- 
cept for  your  sake.  I  do  not  care  for  gentle  breeding,  except  that  it 
admits  me  to  your  society.  And  if  you  should  propose  that  I  re- 
linquish my  English  home  and  English  name  to  marry  you,  my 
consent  would  be  instant  and  joyful." 

She  had  no  thought  of  interrupting  this  fine  flow.  It  was  novel, 
certainly,  but  not  unpleasant. 

"It  is  not  at  all  strange  that  you  should  like  me  a  little,"  he 
continued,  "  because  I  love  you  so  entirely.  Of  course  you  can  never 
love  a  great,  rough  fellow  with  equal  affection.  That  is  not  to  be 
expected," 

'*  What  a  blind  donkey  the  man  is  !"  thought  Annot. 

"  Now  about  this  matter  of  clergymen  and  consuls,"  he  proceeded 
cautiously,  "  let  me  explain.  I  have  been  very  much  of  a  book-man, 
and  am  ignorant  of  customs.  Now,  I  recall  the  fact,  that  fellows 
who  have  married,  among  my  friends,  seemed  to  take  weeks  and 
months  of  preparation  !  I  remember  Sir  Lionel  Forbes,  who  told 
me  in  September  that  he  would  be  married  in  January.  I  remember 
Mr.  Compton,  who  married  Lady  Agnes  Minor;  he  told  me  at  the 
club,  in  June,  that  he  would  marry  some  time  in  the  winter.  But  I 
never  thought  of  such  a  thing  as  love,  and  I  suppose  they  did  not 
either.  Suppose  you  were  to  tell  me  that  we  should  be  married  next 
winter !" 

"  I  have  no  such  intention  !"  said  Annot,  indignantly. 

"  Heaven  forbid  !"  ejaculated  Miles,  piously.  "  Next  winter !  If 
my  vital  energy  should  be  equal  to  the  strain — and  there  have  been 
men  who  lived  in  dungeons  for  a  longer  period — you  would  take  a 


FIXING    THE  DAY.  149 

shattered  wreck  of  a  man  alter  such  jirobation.  Next  winter !  Wliy, 
I  shudder  at  the  thought  of  waitinjij  until  next  week!" 

"  Lord  Rayneford,"  said  Annot,  impressively,  "it  seems  hidicrous 
to  answer  you  seriously.  But  you  talk  so  seriously  that  I  am  forced 
to  believe  you  are  expressing  your  real  sentiments," 

"  You  will  never  hear  from  me  anything  else  than  my  real  senti- 
ments, Annot." 

"  ^Vell — I  also  am  somewhat  ignorant  of  such  matters.  But  I  am 
sure  there  is  no  case  in  civilized  lands  where — where  a  lady  married 
a  gentleman  upon  one  week's  acquaintance !" 

"  At  it  again  !"  said  Mr.  Dale,  suddenly  appearing  in  the  aisle, 
and  then  dropping  into  the  seat  opposite  the  disputants.  "Well, 
you  cannot  quarrel  much  longer.  We  are  at  Charleston.  Come, 
now!     What  in  the  world  are  you  arguing  about?" 

"  Miss  Dale"  has  been  reading  Sir  Charles  Lyell's  book,"  said 
Miles,  "  in  which  he  demonstrates  that  the  work  of  creation,  instead 
of  taking  six  days,  really  required  six  thousand  million  ages !" 

"  Ah  !"  said  ^Ir.  Dale,  "  there  is  an  excellent  book  by  Hugh  ISIil- 
ler.  I  saw  an  extract  from  it  recently,  in  a  newspaper.  It  is  the 
'Testimony  of  the  Rocks.'  But,  really,  it  is  not  wise  to  get  into 
such  a  heat  over  discussions  of  this  sort!  Annot,  you  look  as  stern 
as  if  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  were  in  jeopardy." 

"  You  shall  have  your  own  way,  Miss  Dale,"  said  Miles.  "  Shake 
hands !" 

Annot  put  her  little  hand  in  his,  and  he  crushed  her  delicate 
fingers  repentingly. 

"  Gather  up  your  impedimenta,^^  said  Mr.  Dale.  "  We  are  nearing 
the  station.  Take  charge  of  Annot,  please.  I  will  get  a  carriage. 
Mills  House,  of  course?" 

"  I  have  rooms  there,"  answered  Miles.  "  We  will  follow  you. 
Allow  me  to  assist  you,  INIiss  Dale.  Better  put  your  veil  down. 
That  jackanapes  is  gaping  at  you  again  !" 

Mr.  Miles  had  a  parlour.  Certain  luxurious  habits  clung  to  him, 
and  he  had  taken  rooms  en  suite,  as  a  matter  of  course,  when  he 
landed.  The  trio  were  conducted  into  his  parlour,  and  Mr.  Dale 
descended  to  the  office  to  select  rooms  for  himself  and  daughter,  and 
once  more  Annot  and  Miles  were  alone. 

"  Are  we  friends  again  ?"  he  said,  holding  out  his  arms. 

She  allowed  him  to  hold  her  a  moment,  and  then  extricating  her- 
self, sat  down  on  the  sofa,  motioning  him  to  a  seat  beside  her. 

"  Now  listen  !"  she  said.     "  First  of  all,  we  must  tell  father." 


150  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Shall  I  go  for  him?" 

"  He  is  coming.  Second,  you  may  kiss  me  once  a  day — only 
once !" 

"  I  will  take  to-day's  now,"  said  Miles,  and  he  did. 

"  Third,  you  must  not  speak  of  marriage  until — here  is  father !" 

Mr,  Dale  entered  the  room.  Miles  had  his  arm  around  her  waist, 
and  he  did  not  withdraw  it. 

"  This  is  Lord  Rayneford,  father,"  said  Annot,  simply;  "and  he 
has  asked  me  to  become  Lady  Rayneford." 

"  Hell !  Why,  Annot !  So  sudden  !  You  were  quarrelling  like 
Kilkenny  cats  half  an  hour  ago  !" 

"  But  he  asked  me  three  days  ago,  sir.  And  I  have  referred  him 
to  you.  And  if  you  say  I  must,  I  am  willing  to  marry  him.  In 
about  five  years." 


CHAPTER    XXVL 
Fixed. 

THE  "  Nellie"  took  in  her  return  cargo  with  rapidity,  after  the 
return  of  Mr.  Miles  to  Charleston.  The  original  plan  was  to 
wait  for  the  new  crop  of  cotton,  as  Mr.  Brentam's  experience  led 
him  to  expect  lower  prices  in  the  early  autumn.  But  Miles  was 
strongly  advised  by  his  factors  to  load  his  vessel  with  the  old  crop, 
and  get  to  sea  as  early  as  possible.  The  chief  argument  in  favour 
of  prompt  action  was  the  increasing  rigour  of  the  blockade.  Two 
vessels  had  been  recently  captured  oif  the  harbour.  One,  outward- 
bound,  laden  with  turpentine ;  the  other,  a  swift  English  steamer, 
with  a  valuable  cargo  of  arms,  had  been  caught  almost  over  the 
bar  by  the  cruisers  outside.  This  disaster  affected  the  market  per- 
ceptibly, and  Miles  bought  the  cotton  that  was  destined  for  the 
unlucky  ship  last  mentioned  at  a  marked  reduction. 

Miles  laid  all  the  facts  before  the  captain  of  the  "  Nellie,"  and 
asked  for  his  advice  as  to  the  matter  of  sailing.  The  "  Nellie"  was 
a  fast  sailer,  and  neither  captain  nor  supercargo  had  any  fears  of  a 
chase,  if  she  could  only  get  fairly  out  to  sea.  But  there  were 
six  steamers  reported  constantly  off  the  bar,  and  three  others  were 
cruising  along  the  coast  between  Cape  Fear  and  Savannah.  The 
blockade-runners  knew  the  names  of  them  all,  the  number  of  guns 
each  carried,  and  the  relative  speed  of  each.     They  knew  when  one 


FIXED.  151 

or  two  of  the  squadron  would  be  relieved  by  the  coasting  vessels, 
and  generally  knew  what  ports  along  the  coast  were  being  watched 
with  spwial  vigilance.  There  were  four  other  blockade-runners  at 
the  wharves  in  Charleston,  all  eager  to  get  out,  yet  all  so  demoral- 
ised bv  the  recent  reverses  that  the  date  of  their  departure  was 
indefinitely  iK)stponed. 

*'  :My  rule,  Mr.  Miles,"  said  the  captiiin,  "  is  to  obey  my  owners' 
ordei-s,  and  not  to  put  in  any  of  my  jaw\" 

"  But  I  want  your  advice,  captiiiu,"  replied  the  supercargo. 
"  Can't  give  advice,"  said  the  captain,  shaking  his  head.  "  You 
will  have  six  hundred  bales  of  cotton  on  board,  and  the  'Nellie'  is 
worth  thirty  thousand  dollars  if  empty.  That  makes  jwoty  nigh 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  or  forty  thousand  pounds  in  your 
outlandish  money." 

"  It  is  a  large  sum,"  answered  Miles. 

"  Yaas.  And  if  the  *  Xellie'  should  be  captivated  by  them  half- 
dozen  blowers  outside,  I  haven't  enough  money  about  my  clothes  to 
pay  for  her.  Don't  want  to  risk  another  man's  money  on  my 
advice." 

"  But  you  can  indicate  what  you  would  do  if  you  owned  vessel 
and  cargo." 

"  It  would  depend  on  circumstances,"  replied  the  captain.  "  If 
the  blockade  was  going  to  be  kept  up  as  strictly  as  at  present,  I 
should  most  likely  try  the  run  when  the  weather  suited.  Then  the 
price  of  cotton  in  Liverpool  would  make  me  more  active  if  it  was 
high,  and  more  lazy  if  it  was  low." 
"  When  will  you  be  able  to  sail  ?" 
"  In  five  days,  if  need  be." 

The  supercargo  went  back  to  his  hotel  undecided.  Clearly,  he 
must  take  advice  from  Mr.  Dale,  Miss  Dale,  and  Mr.  Boston.  The 
latter  had  spent  one  day  in  Charleston,  but  was  absent  again,  bear- 
ing some  last  words  to  a  soldier's  widow  in  the  interior  of  the  State. 
The  relations  subsisting  between  Rayneford  and  the  Dales  were 
pleasant  enough  to  satisfy  a  far  more  unreasonable  lover  than  Miles. 
:Mr.  Dale  had  given  instant  approval  to  the  engagement  of  his 
daughter,  merely  remarking  that  lie  would  have  been  better  satisfied 
if  his  original  su})position  had  proved  correct,  and  Miles  had  been 
only  Mr.  Rayneford.  The  suitor  himself  had  reflected  upon  the 
matter,  and  decided  that  his  eager  courtship  was  not  entirely  deco- 
rous; therefore,  since  their  arrival  at  Charleston,  he  had  uttered  no 
liint  about  marriage,  except  in  a  few  words  to  Annot. 


152  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  I  wish  to  apologise,  Annot,"  he  said  that  afternoon,  seizing  a 
moment  when  Mr.  Dale  was  out  of  earshot.  "I  think  it  was  inde- 
corous to  press  my  suit  so  vehemently  to-day.  Attribute  it  to  my 
ignorance,  and  forgive  me.  I  am  too  happy  in  knowing  that  I  need 
dread  no  rival  to  annoy  you  with  aggressive  courtship," 

There  was  policy  in  this  as  well  as  delicacy.  They  were  both 
much  more  at  their  ease,  and  each  discovered  new  traits  in  the  other 
worthy  of  admiration  as  the  days  passed.  At  the  end  of  the  second 
week  they  were  more  intimately  "  acquainted"  than  they  could  pos- 
sibly have  been  in  a  month  of  fervent  love-making.  Tiiey  fell 
easily  into  the  habit  of  referring  to  their  future  lives  at  Hawkley, 
while  Mr.  Dale  joined  in  the  discussion  of  their  plans.  If  Miles 
had  only  known  it,  he  would  have  been  enraptured  at  his  progress. 
He  was  approaching  matrimony  at  a  tremendous  pace. 

"  We  were  waiting  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Dale,  when  Miles  returned 
from  his  interview  with  the  skipper.     '*  We  have  decided." 

"What  is  the  decision?"  answered  Rayneford,  retaining  Annot's 
plump  hand,  as  he  took  the  seat  at  her  side. 

"  To  sail  with  you." 

"  Impossible  !     Blockade-runners  do  not  carry  lady  pa.ssengers." 

"  And  why  not  ?"  said  Annot. 

"  Because  they  are  not  so  safe  as  regular  steamers.  Mr.  Boston 
said  you  could  easily  get  through  the  lines,  being  British  subjects. 
I  wish  I  could  go  with  you  !  But  I  am  bound  to  stick  by  my  ship. 
Once  under  the  Federal  flag,  you  can  reach  New  York  in  a  day  or 
two.     And  you  can  reach  England  within  a  fortnight  thereafter." 

"  Mr.  Boston  is  mistaken,"  replied  Mr.  Dale,  "  or,  rather,  the 
difficulties  are  greater  than  he  supposes.  There  have  been  some 
cases  of  very  rough  treatment  recently.  A  party  tried  to  get  through 
under  a  flag  of  truce  last  week,  but  they  were  promptly  sent  back, 
and  they  have  now  gone  to  Kentucky,  hoping  to  reach  the  Ohio 
River  and  get  across.     We  thought  of  that  route,  too." 

"  It  is  the  better  way,"  said  Miles.  "  I  wish  I  might  be  your 
escort.     But  the  '  Nellie'  will  be  ready  for  sea  in  a  few  days." 

"Suppose  you  send  another  supercargo?"  said  Miss  Dale,  in  a 
whisper. 

"  If  I  were  sole  owner  I  would  gladly  do  so,"  replied  Rayneford  : 
"  but  it  is  impossible.  My  partner  entrusts  his  interests  to  me,  and 
I  cannot  transfer  the  responsibility  to  another.  Besides,  it  is  not  so 
easy  to  get  out.  There  are  six  cruisers  constantly  off  the  bar.  I 
cannot  put  the  risk  I  dislike  myself  on  another." 


FIXED.  153 

"And  you  are  rcsolveil  to  go  in  the  '  Nellie'?"  asked  Annot,  as  her 
father  moved  over  to  the  window.  The  old  gentleman  had  a  secret 
idea  that  it  would  be  better  policy  to  Iciive  the  discussion  in  Annot's 
liaiids.     So  he  betook  himself  out  of  earshot. 

''  Xoldc^Kc  obliijc,  my  darling,"  answered  Miles;  "  I  need  not  dis- 
cuss that  point  with  you." 

"Suppose,"  said  Annot,  shyly — "suppose  you  had  been  a  long 
time  hero,  and  that  we  had — married?  Would  you  leave  me  and 
take  your  ship?" 

"  I  would  take  both  !  Leave  you,  my  wife  !  Never  !  Because 
I  would  then  belong  to  you.  Because  you  w'ould  risk  capture,  or 
the  sinking  of  tlje  vessel,  rather  than  let  me  go  without  you  !  Be- 
cause I  could  never  allow  my  wife  to  travel  through  this  war-torn 
country  without  me." 

"Suppose,"  continued  Annot,  "that  father  and  I  both  prefer  the 
risk  of  capture,  or — worse,  rather  than — than  incur  the  risks  of  the 
land  journey?" 

"  Then,"  said  Miles,  gravely,  "  my  duty  is  plain.  I  must  show 
you  how  much  more  promising  the  land  route  is.  I  must  tell  you 
that  I  am  bound  to  carry  the  'Nellie'  past  the  guns  of  the  Federal 
ships  !  And  the  gunners  will  not  refuse  to  sink  the  '  Nellie'  because 
she  has  a  lady  passenger." 

"  You  would  have  a  lady  passenger  if — if  my  first  supposition 
were  true." 

"  Yes,  Atmot,"  answered  Miles ;  "  but  all  the  world  and  my  own 
conscience  would  acquit  me  then.  But  I  should  feel  very  guilty  if 
I  were  to  allow  a  young  lady,  not  Mrs.  Supercargo  Miles,  to  run 
into  unnecessary  danger.  Do  you  not  see  the  difference?  Since  I 
have  known  you  I  have  learned  much  about  matrimony  and  its 
obligations.  A  wife  is  so  much  a  part  of  her  husband  that  she 
braves  death  rather  than  separation.  And  a  husband  is  so  identical 
with  his  wife  that  death  does  not  appal  him  when  it  threatens  both 
together !  But  it  is  far  different  with  jNIiss  Dale.  I  should  not 
dream  of  killing  you  if  I  knew  I  w'ould  die  to-night." 

"That  is  what  father  would  call  'astounding  rubbish,'"  said  Miss 
Dale  ;  "  and  I  don't  think  I  could  contradict  him.  Supjwse  the 
*  Nellie'  captured,  what  would  the  captors  do  ?  I  mean  with  super- 
cargo and  passengers." 

"  I  suppose  they  would  send  them  all  to  New  York.  They  would 
confiscate  all  the  property  of  the  supercargo.  Perhaps  the  passen- 
gers— if  British  subjects — could  obtain  their  freedom  by  application 


154  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

to  Her  Majesty's  representative.  But  the  blockade-runner  is  a  law- 
breaker, or  rather  a  law-defier.  They  would  probably  put  him  in  a 
fort  until  the  war  ends.     You  see,  he  would  be  a  prisoner  of  war." 

"  If  you  sail  without  us — father  and  me — would  you  surrender 
the  '  Nellie'  when  they  began  to  shoot " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?" 

"  Answer  me,  please  !     Would  you  still  endeavor  to  escape  ?" 

"  I  think  I  might  take  a  shot  or  two  before  I  yielded  up  forty 
thousand  pounds  !  I  cannot  shoot  back,  you  know !  If  the  '  Nellie' 
were  armed,  she  would  be  called  a  pirate.  But  I  think  I  should 
continue  to  run  so  long  as  her  machinery  would  work." 

"  And  you  would  be  out  of  personal  danger — I  mean  down  in  the 
hold,  or  whatever  it  is  ?     Out  of  the  reach  of  shot '?" 

"Heh?" 

"  Oh,  what  demons  men  are  !"  said  Annot,  in  a  rage.  "  Don't  I 
know  how  you  rode  up  to  the  very  cannon's  mouths  at  Long  Meadow  ? 
While  I  was  kneeling  by  my  window  trying  to  pray  for  your  safety, 
and  while  every  boom  of  the  dreadful  guns  seemed  to  shake  the  life 
out  of  my  body,  you — you  were  braving  a  thousand  deaths — for 
nothing !" 

"  Were  you  praying  for  me  then,  Annot  ?"  said  Miles,  tenderly. 
"  Well,  I  was  riding  by  the  side  of  the  man  I  thought  you  loved — 
for  your  sake.  Do  not  say — for  nothing.  If  I  had  not  loved  you 
then,  I  should  not  have  faced  those  bullets.  I  had  some  such 
thought  as  this :  '  She  will  ask  me  how  Stanly  bore  himself,  and  I 
must  watch  him  that  I  may  tell  her.'  Because  I  thought  he  would 
surely  be  slain.  Ah,  it  was  beautiful  in  all  its  horrors  to  see  that 
dauntless  warrior !" 

"And  he,  filled  with  the  rage  of  battle,  was  excusable;  but 
you " 

"  I  was  filled  with  something  better  than  battle-rage,"  replied 
Miles.  "  I  was  filled  with  pure,  unselfish  love.  For  I  had  no  more 
thought  of  winning  you  then  than  I  had  of  conquering  the  country. 
For,  look  you,  if  you  had  loved  him,  I  should  never  have  spoken 
of  love  to  you,  though  he  were  twenty  times  dead.  You  would  have 
been  his  widow,  and  sacred  in  my  eyes." 

"  It  seems  that  your  theory  is  one-sided,"  observed  Annot.  "  I 
think  you  told  me  that  you  had — had  made  certain  proposals  before 
you  left  England " 

"  But  I  did  not  tell  you  I  ever  loved  another  woman,"  interrupted 
Miles.     "  I  was  ignorant  of  the  very  existence  of  the  sentiments  I 


FIXED.  166 

now  cherish.  I  thought  of  the  other  as  the  mistress  of  my  house. 
I  think  of  you  only  iis  part  of  my  own  life,  and  I  could  not  hear  to 
think  you  had  ever  given  your  love  to  any  other.  I  do  not  offer 
you  the  poor  reninants  of  a  broken  heart.  You  have  the  very  fii-st 
earnest  pulsations  my  heart  has  ever  known." 

"  If  you  were  to  sail  on  this  dangerous  voyage,"  said  Annot,  after 
a  pause,  "  and  leave  me  here " 

"  My  darling!"  whispered  Miles,  "solve  the  problem.  It  is  in 
your  own  power." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Marry  me!  No  obligation  could  tear  me  away  from  my  wife  ! 
Why  should  you  delay  ?  Is  it  because  you  do  not  know  me  well 
enough?  Ah,  no!  You  know  everything  when  you  believe  the 
depth  and  sincerity  of  my  affection.  Is  it  because  others  might  say 
there  was  unseemly  haste?  Why,  nobody  knows  that  we  were  not 
lovers  in  our  childhood.     You  come  from  my  birthplace " 

"  I  was  born  here." 

"  Yes.  But  your  father  is  my  near  neighbour.  The  lauds  of 
Hawkley  are  divided  from  Dale's  Manor  by  a  he<lge." 

"  What  have  you  said  to  Mr.  Boston  about  me  ?"  said  Annot, 
suddenly. 

"  Not  one  word.     Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Because  he — he  talked  to  me  the  other  day.  After  you  left  us 
to  go  to  your  ship.  He  said — it  was  marvellous  how  cruel  gentle 
women  could  be  !  He  said  I  was  your  Annie  Laurie !  How  did 
he  know  anything  about  Annie  Laurie,  sir?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Miles.  "  He  meant  you  w^ere  all  the 
world  to  me." 

«  Who  told  him  ?" 

"  Not  I !"  answered  Miles,  stoutly. 

"  Well !  He  said  you  would  certainly  never  take  me  on  the 
'  Nellie'  as  a  passenger !  And  he  emphasized  the  words.  And  then 
he  took  father  off  for  a  walk,  and  when  they  returned " 

"  Well,  what  then  ?" 

"  Both  he  and  father  said  precisely  what  you  have  said."  She 
looked  round  for  Mr.  Dale,  but  he  had  disappeared.  "They  said — 
Mrs.  Miles  and  her  father  could  go  with  propriety  in  the  'Nellie/ 
while  Miss  Dale  and  her  father  could  not." 

"Go  on,  my  darling  I"  said  Miles. 

"I  cannot  go  on,  sir!"  replied  Annot,  hiding  her  face  on  his 
shoulder.     "  You  do  not  give  me  any  choice.     You  tell  me  you  will 


156  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

leave  me  to  encounter  unknown  clangers  on  tlie  sea.  I  will  not  be 
left,  sir !     A  hyena  would  not  be  so  cruel  as  you  are !" 

"Will  you  go  with  me,  Annot?" 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  father  ?"  she  answered,  as  she  tore  herself 
away  from  his  encircling  arms,  just  as  Mr.  Dale,  treading  softly,  re- 
entered the  room.  There  was  a  pleasant  smile  on  the  paternal  face 
as  she  whisked  out  of  it  with  a  parting  shot. 

"  If  I  live  to  reach  England,"  and  she  held  up  a  warning  finger, 
"  I  will  make  you  both  repent  your  scheming !" 

"  That  means  consent,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Dale.  "  It  does  seem  a 
little  hasty,  but  the  circumstances  are  peculiar.  And  I  can  entrust 
my  child's  happiness  to  your  father's  son.     When  will  you  sail  ?" 

"On  Tuesday  of  next  week,  if  no  unforeseen  obstacle  arises." 

"  And  on  Tuesday  morning  we  will  have  a  wedding.  There  are 
two  officers  of  Her  Majesty's  army  here.  Mr.  Boston  will  be  here. 
The  British  consul  will  be  present  also.  And  we  will  put  them  all 
upon  honour  when  Annot  becomes  Lady  Rayueford." 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Dale !"  said  Miles,  "  I  begin  to  dread  the  sea  now." 

"Do  you?"  replied  Mr.  Dale.  "Well,  that  is  a  good  omen. 
Ha,  ha!" 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 
Mr.  Boston. 

IT  was  a  very  select,  but  also  a  very  merry  party  that  met  at  the 
wedding  breakfast,  in  a  private  parlor  in  the  Mills  House, 
Charleston.  Lord  and  Lady  Rayneford,  forming  "  the  handsomest 
couple  he  had  ever  married,"  were  explaining  to  the  Reverend  Rector 
of  St.  Stephen's  Church  the  urgent  need  for  maintaining  their  in- 
cognito until  after  the  "  Nellie"  crossed  the  bar.  Captains  Delancy 
and  Saybrooke  were  explaining  to  Mr.  Dale  how  they  had  obtained 
furloughs  from  the  Governor-General  of  Canada,  in  order  to  take 
part  in  the  American  war.  Mr.  Boston  was  exhibiting  certain  docu- 
ments to  the  commercial  representative  of  Her  Majesty,  in  order  to 
establish  his  identity. 

"  As  we  are  all  friends  and  countrymen,"  said  Mr.  Boston,  when 
the  servants  had  retired,  "  we  can  talk  with  perfect  freedom.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  that  this  happy  marriage  has  been  brought  about  by  a 


MR.  BOSTON.  157 

deliberate  conspiracy!     And  as  I  am  tl.c  .n...t  guilty  of  the  con- 
spirators, I  bog  attention  to  my  penitent  confession. 

"Hear,  hear!"  .<aid  the  company.  ^     -,     i       t 

"  First  then,"  said  the  orator,  "  I  knew  Lord  Rayneford  when  i 
first  met  'him.  He  called  himself  by  another  name,  and  therefore  I 
could  not  reveal  mv  knowledge  even  to  himself.  He  was  po.nted 
out  to  me  two  veai's  ago,  in  London,  at  one  of  the  clubs  by  Mr. 
Plimpton,  who  is  his  kinsman.  Two  or  three  weeks  ago  a  blockade- 
runner  brought  an  English  mail  into  Savannah,  and  tl.ere  was  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Plimpton  to  me  announcing  Lord  Kaynetord  s 
mysterious  disappearance." 
■"Hear,  hear!"  ^.  .       .,    .  t 

"  In  the  second  place,  my  friend,  Mr.  Dale,  discovenng  that  I  was 
a  barri^^ter  revealed  to  me  certain  fragments  of  legal  history,  and 
quite  incidentally  referred  to  my  lord  as  his  neighbour  in  Somerset. 
He  was  strongly  attracted,  of  course,  and  in  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion (in  the  smoking-car,  Mr.  Dale!)  he  lamented  that  his  daughter, 
now  Lady  Rayneford,  had  so  positive  a  repugnance  to  my  lord  that 
she  could  not  refrain  from  constant  quarrelling.  As  I  have  had 
some  experience  in  a  similar  direction,  I  knew  there  could  be  no 
quarrellin-  between  our  excellent  friends  without  some  foundation 
in  previous  liking.  I  had  overheard  some  remarks  from  Rayne- 
ford, when  he  was  delirious  from  fever,  that  revealed  his  interest  in 
ISIiss  Dale.  It  was  clearly  my  duty,  therefore,  to  get  them  married, 
so  that  they  might  quarrel  in  peace !" 
"  Hear,  hear !" 

"  There  was,  of  course,  the  grand  obstacle  which  senseless  custom 
has  erected  for  the  special  torture  of  humanity.  I  mean  the  necessity 
for  a  prolonged  engagement  and  courtship,  and  the  difficulty  of  ob- 
taining'- dresses  from  New  York  or  London,  the  labour  of  keeping 
my  load's  courage  up,  and  others  which  will  suggest  themselves. 
They  were  originally  agreed  upon  an  impossible  plan,  namely  :  to 
take  Mr.  and  Miss  Dale  as  passengers  in  Lord  Rayneford  s  ship. 
But  I  managed  to  drop  a  hint  in  his  lordship's  ear  to  the  effect  that 
blockaders  were  very  apt  to  shoot  at  blockade-runners.  This  sugges- 
tion changed  his  plans.  He  must  take  his  ship  home.  He  would 
never  consent  to  take  a  lady  passenger.  My  lady  would  not  consent 
to  his  departure  on  this  journey,  whose  dangers,  I  confess,  I  some- 
what magnified.  But  if  married,  he  thought  he  might  risk  his  wife, 
though  he  could  not  honourably  risk  a  p;issenger  in  whom  he  had  no 
vested  interests." 


158  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Hear,  hear !" 

"  I  happen  also  to  know  that  the  return  of  the  entire  party  to 
England  is  not  at  all  difficult,  by  Avay  of  New  York.  I  thought  it 
could  be  done  under  a  flag  of  truce,  but  there  are  doubts  and  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  this  arrangement.  However,  I  know  of  a  sure 
route  by  which  they  can  reach  Federal  soil,  through  West  Virginia." 

"And  the  ship?"  said  Lord  Rayneford. 

"  Ah  !"  replied  Mr.  Boston,  "there  is  the  most  brilliant  stroke  of 
genius.  Now  consider  the  case.  If  you  could  get  your  ship  into 
Federal  waters,  and  get  a  legal  clearance,  you  would  be  sure  of  the 
value  of  ship  and  cargo,  always  allowing  for  the  dangers  of  naviga- 
tion." 

"  Exactly." 

"  Well,  I  have  arranged  that  also.  You  shall  take  the  '  Nellie' 
to  New  York  and  thence  to  Liverpool — or  her  equivalent  in 
money." 

"  Equivalent  ?"  said  Rayneford. 

"  Yes.  The  blockade  is  so  rigid,  that  she  is  not  saleable  as  she 
stands.  But  I  know  an  Englishman  who  will  buy  ship  and  cargo 
at  your  valuation,  who  will  give  you  a  few  hundred  pounds  in  Bank 
of  England  notes,  and  drafts  upon  his  London  bankers  duly  authen- 
ticated by  their  Charleston  correspondents,  for  the  remainder." 

"  And  the  blockade  ?"  said  Lord  Rayneford — "  does  he  know 
there  are  six  cruisers  off  the  harbour  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  other,  indifferently,  "I  fancy  he  knows  all 
about  the  blockade.  But  he  is  partial  to  blockaders,  and  is  quite 
eager  to  undertake  the  adventure." 

"  May  I  ask  his  name  ?"  said  Rayneford. 

"  His  name,"  answered  the  other,  slowly — "  is — stay  !  I  have  his 
card."  And  he  took  it  from  his  pocket-book,  and  gave  it,  with  a  bow, 
to  Lady  Rayneford.  It  passed  from  hand  to  hand  around  the  table, 
until  it  reached  Mr.  Dale,  who  read  the  name  aloud.. 

"Mr.  Lacy  Barston, 

"  Oakland, 

"  Lavington, 

"  Devon." 

"  I  know  him  !"  said  Captain  Delancy,  excitedly,  "  Barston  ! 
Certainly.  Just  like  him  !  Never  expect  Barston  to  do  what  other 
men  do.     Been  all  over  the  world.     Half  doctor,  half  lawyer,  half 


MR.  BOSTOX.  159 

parson — and  like  those  Kentucky  follows — half  horse  and  half  alli- 
frator !  Was  in  the  Crimea  with  our  fellows.  Rides  like  a  centaur. 
Fiirlits  like  the  devil  !  Beg  pardon,  your  ladyship!  I  was  only 
quoting; !'' 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,"  said  Mr.  Boston. 

"  No  mistake,  I  assure  you  !  ^ly  brother-in-law  was  with  him  at 
Balaklava.  Lacy  Barston  !  Certainly.  I  have  heard  a  hundred 
stories  about  him.  Plenty  of  tin,  too!  He  could  buy  a  dozen  of 
your  ships,  my  lord  !  Well,  well !  In  Charleston  I  I  will  certainly 
find  him  to-morrow.     I'd  give  ten  jiounds  just  to  see  him  !" 

'*  Ah,  he  is  a  friend  of  yours  ?"  said  Mr,  Boston. 

"  Yes  !  That  is,  I  never  saw  him,  but  he  is  a  friend  of  Tom's — 
my  brother-in-law,  you  know.  By  Jove !  I  should  say  he  was  a 
friend  of  mine  !     What  is  he  doing  here?"         ^ 

"He  has  been  looking  for  sugar,"  replied  Mr.  Boston,  coolly. 
"  He  wishes  to  get  a  special  kind  of  sugar,  and  has  been  on  the 
liouisiana  plantations,  and  now  intends  to  examine  the  plantations  at 
Porto  Rico.  He  intends  to  go  out  in  the  '  Xellie,'  if  Lord  Rayne- 
ford  siiould  consent  to  sell  her.  Now,  gentlemen,  you  have  seen  the 
result  of  all  my  plans.  Come,  Mr.  Dale.  While  my  lord  and  your 
daughter  arrange  their  first  matrimonial  quarrel,  let  us  go  to  the 
bankers'  and  investigate  this  Mr.  Barston.  Mr.  Cardon  will  go  with 
us." 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  the  consul,  "and  I  think  you  will  find  his 
record  quite  satisfactory.  Good  morning,  your  ladyship !  Good 
morning,  ray  lord  !  Ah,  Captain  Delancy,  I  know  some  of  Mr. 
Barston's  tricks  that  you  never  heard  of!  I  will  tell  you  another 
time.     Good  morning !" 

The  rector,  the  captains,  and  the  consul  departed,  and  Mr.  Boston, 
following,  was  detained  by  a  touch  on  his  arm.  It  was  Annot.  She 
drew  him  back  into  the  room  and  led  him  to  the  sofa,  seating  him 
between  herself  and  Miles. 

"  Now,  sir,"  she  said,  "  please  explain.     Begin  !" 

"  Begin  ?"  said  the  other,  sheepishly.     "  Explain  what?" 

"  Your  interest  in  sugar,"  she  answered,  severely. 

"  My  interest — Mr.  Barston  really  desires " 

"Sjieak  in  the  first  person,  if  you  please.  Oh,  Mr.  Barston  !  If 
your  scheme  were  possible  I  could  find  no  words  to  express  my  joy 
and  gratitude." 

"Fiddle-de-dee!"  And  he  turned  his  great  blue  eyes,  full  of 
kind  sympathy,  from  Rayneford  to  Annof.     "Listen, -then.     It  is 


160  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

simple  truth  I  told  you.  I  want  sugar.  And,  by  the  Three  Kings 
of  Cologne !  I  am  going  to  get  it ! 

"  The  world  is  full  of  frauds.  I  have  sought  in  vain  for  pure 
sugar  in  England.  I  am  going  to  Porto  Rico.  I  intend  to  see  it 
made,  granulated,  packed,  and  shipped  to  Oakland.  My  friend 
E-ayneford,  you  cannot  take  this  little  lady  out  in  the  'Nellie.'  My 
child,  you  are  a  little  heroine,  but  you  cannot  brave  the  dangers  of 
this  trip.     I  want  your  vessel,  Rayneford.     Will  you  sell  ?" 

''You  do  not  need  the  'Kellie'  to  get  your  sugar,"  said  Rayne- 
ford. 

"  But  I  do.  I  am  going  to  buy  a  blockade-runner  and  cargo. 
And  I  like  yours  best.     I  have  been  all  through  all  of  them." 

"  Why  do  you  want  mine  ?" 

"Because  she  is  called  'Nellie.'  The  darling!  Name  your  price, 
man." 

"  I  am  at  a  loss  to  decide  this  matter,"  said  Rayneford,  thought- 
fully. "  If  my  partner  could  be  consulted,  I  think  he  would  advise 
me  to  sell ;  but  he  expected  me  to  bring  a  return  cargo.  When  I 
came  in  there  were  only  four  ships  guarding  this  port.  Now  there 
are  eight.  Compared  with  the  risk  of  capture,  your  proposal,  Mr. 
Boston — Barston,  I  mean " 

"  The  soldiers  changed  my  name,"  interrupted  Mr.  Barston.  "  I 
never  gave  the  matter  much  attention  until  one  of  them  recently 
asked  me  if  I  was  born  in  Boston.  I  have  a  commission  somewhere, 
regularly  appointing  Lacy  Barston  as  hospital  steward,  with  per- 
mission to  change  from  one  army  corps  to  another  at  pleasure.  How 
did  you  identify  me  so  speedily,  madame?" 

"  By  your  manner  when  you  said  you  knew  an  Englishman  who 
would  purchase  the  vessel.  By  Captain  Delancy's  description — half 
doctor,  half  lawyer,  half  parson.  I  have  known  you  in  all  char- 
acters." 

"And  the  rest,"  said  Barston,  laughing — "half  horse,  half  alli- 
gator ?" 

"  Accurate  enough,"  replied  Annot.  "  But  I  discovered  two 
weeks  ago  that  with  your  numerous  halves  you  were  also  whole 
gentleman." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  lady.  Now,  Rayneford,  hear  my  proposal. 
I  will  pay  you  the  cost  of  your  vessel  and  the  cost  of  cargo,  adding 
the  additional  value  in  Liverpool  by  the  latest  advices ;  we  will  have 
the  transfer  made  by  your  factor,  and  settle  through  your  bankers 
here.     I  can  give  you  some  money  for  your  present  needs,  and  here 


MR.  BOSTON.  161 

is  my  circular  credit  authorising  drafts  up  to  one  iiundred  thousand 
])()uiuls,  on  Smiths,  Payne  &  Smith,  London.  Come  with  me  and 
Mr.  Dale  to  tlie  bankers',  and  see  this  document  verified.  You,  my 
lady,  will  please  have  all  your  luggage  ready — the  less  the  better — 
and  prepare  to  start  this  afternoon  for  the  bleak  North.  You  must 
go  to  Charlotte,  North  Carolina,  thence  to  Lynchburg,  Virginia, 
and  then  you  will  have  some  tiresome  stage  travel  until  you  are 
through  the  lines.  The  party  starts  at  four  o'clock.  In  four  days 
you  will  be  in  New  York,  and  one  week  from  to-morrow  you  may 
embark  for  Liverpool." 

"  What  shall  I  do,  Annot?"  said  Lord  Rayneford. 

"  Obey  Mr.  Barston  implicitly,"  replied  Annot. 

"  That  is  my  verdict  also,"  said  Mr.  Dale,  who  had  been  a  silent 
listener  to  the  foregoing  colloquy.  "  Come  on,  gentlemen.  You 
have  so  decided,  Rayneford,  have  you  not?" 

"I  am  hesitating  only  because " 

"  What  *is  it  ?"  said  Barston.     "  Out  with  it !" 

"Because,"  said  Miles,  gravely,  "it  is  not  just.  You,  full  of 
kindness,  and  careless  about  money  gains  or  losses,  propose  a  wild 
bargain.  No  other  man  in  Charleston  or  elsewhere  would  buy  the 
ship  under  present  circumstances !  Her  escape  is  ne:irly  impossi- 
ble!" 

"  Indeed  !"  replied  Barston.  "  Well,  I  can  remove  your  anxiety. 
First,  there  is  an  easterly  storm  in  progress,  and  it  is  increasing. 
By  nightfall  it  will  be  furious.  This  is  the  judgment  of  your  cap- 
tain, who  is  an  old  salt.  It  is  my  judgment  also,  and  I  am  an  old 
salt.  When  the  storm  is  at  its  worst,  I  intend  to  steam  right  out 
and  over  the  bar,  and  strike  down  the  coast.  The  cruisers  will  not 
dare  to  follow,  even  if  they  see  us.  The  ship  is  cleared  for  Nassau 
and  a  market.  I  can  go  where  I  please !  I  do  not  dread  the  risk. 
As  for  the  price,  I  confidently  expect  to  make  at  least  five  thousand 
pounds  by  the  advance  in  the  price  of  cotton.  It  is  my  first  com- 
mercial adventure,  and  I  am  willing  to  promise  that  I  will  hold  ship 
and  cargo  until  I  can  get  five  thousand  pounds  profit!  I  am  posi- 
tively certain  that  it  is  only  a  question  of  time.  Because  this  vigi- 
lant blockade  tends  to  this  precise  result.  When  you  are  gliding 
over  the  rails  this  afternoon,  the  blockaders  will  be  steaming  off 
the  coast.  I  shall  escape  them,  I  tell  you!  Come  away !  Fare- 
well, my  lady!  In  the  dear  Land  beyond  the  sea  we  shall  meet 
again.     And,"  here  his  handsome  face  flushed  a  little,  "  I  hope  to 

introduce  to  you  a  darling  little  lady,  some  day " 

ll' 


162  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Her  name  ?"  said  Annot.  "  I  Avish  to  put  it  in  my  prayers,  when 
I  am  praying  for  your  safety  and  success," 

"  Her  name  ?"  said  the  other,  doubtfully.    "  Well,  there  are  two  !" 

"Two!"  said  Annot,  horror-stricken. 

"Yes,  two!  One  is  named  Nellie.  Pray  for  her,  and — and  her 
kindred,  and  you  will  include  the  other  !  Come  !  Time  is  gallop- 
ping  away !" 

In  two  hours  more  the  transfers  were  all  effected.  The  hankers 
pronounced  Mr.  Barston's  drafts  entirely  satisfactory.  Mr.  Cardon, 
the  consul,  knew  Mr.  Barston,  and  had  known  him  from  boyhood. 
His  brother  was  a  surgeon  in  London,  and  had  been  Barston's 
preceptor.  This  was  communicated  privately  to  Mr.  Dale.  Lord 
Rayneford  had  caught  the  infection  from  Annot,  and  was  quite 
ready  to  take  Barston's  naked  word  for  everything.  He  received 
minute  directions  as  to  the  route  to  the  North,  and  at  four  o'clock 
they  exchanged  adieux  at  the  station,  while  the  rain  Mas  lashing  the 
roof. 

"  You  will  reach  Columbia  by  midnight,"  said  Barston,  as  they 
parted,  "and  then  will  take  the  Charlotte  train.  You  must  travel 
steadily  three  or  four  days.  If  no  misadventure  befall  you,  you 
may  go  to  church  in  New  York  on  the  next  Sunday.  Think  of  me 
then  as  in  the  tropics.  Health  and  high  fortune  attend  you,  dear 
friends !" 

"And  you!"  said  they  all,  shaking  hands  with  him.  "You 
have  inspired  us  with  your  confidence.     We  shall  meet  again." 

Mr.  Barston  walked  soberly  down  to  the  wharf  He  had  sent 
his  trunk  on  board  the  "Nellie,"  and  went  immediately  on  board, 
and  into  the  narrow  cabin.  The  captain  watched  him  with  absorbed 
attention  while  he  took  off  the  water-proof  coat  he  wore,  drew  off 
his  wet  boots,  and  replaced  them  with  slippers. 
•  "  Now,  captain,"  said  he,  stretching  himself  out  at  full  length  on 
the  settee,  "  I  don't  think  we  shall  have  a  more  promising  night 
than  this.     All  your  stores  are  aboard  ?" 

"  Everything." 

"It  is  all  agreed,  then,  as  you  said.  Steam  out  whenever  dark- 
ness comes,  and  waken  me  when  we  cross  the  bar.  I  just  want  forty 
winks." 

And  he  was  sound  asleep  in  two  minutes. 


TEE   CHASE.  163 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 
The  Chase. 

THE  easterly  storm  predicted  by  Mr.  Barston  was  punctual  in 
appearance.  Wiien  the  "  Nellie"  steamed  slowly  past  Fort 
Sumter,  the  waves  were  dashing  at  its  foundations  with  a  constantly- 
increasing  roar.  The  captain  was  carefully  watching  the  ])rogress 
of  the  vessel,  his  design  being  to  cross  the  bar  at  the  top  of  the  tide. 
It  was  near  midnight  when  the  regular,  long  swell  of  the  sea  lifted 
tlie  bows  of  the  steamer,  and  wakened  the  sleeper  in  the  cabin. 

"OH"  soundings,  by  the  Three  Kings!"  said  he,  broad  awake  on 
the  instant.  "  There  can  be  no  mistake  about  that  swell.  Now, 
captain,  I've  had  my  nap.  If  you  will  turn  in,  I  will  take  the 
deck." 

"  Rainin'  like  blazes!"  responded  the  captain.  "You  must  have 
navigated  some,  Mr.  Barston,  to  tell  the  jerk  of  the  ship  so  soon." 

"Yes;  I  have  been  on  many  seas.  How  delightful  the  odour  of 
salt  water  !  I  will  put  on  my  overcoat  and  try  the  deck.  See !  I 
am  water-proof  now — oilskin  cap  and  rubber  boots.  I  paid  four 
hundred  dollars  for  those  boots." 

"Four  hundred — what?"  said  the  captain. 

"  Dollars — Confederate  dollars.  I  bought  them  from  a  soldier  I 
was  nursing.  The  poor  fellow  had  been  badly  hurt,  and  both  legs 
were  amputated.  The  boots  were  much  smaller  than  his  feet.  I 
measured  them  after  we — that  is — the  doctor  had  taken  the  legs  off. 
I  am  afraid  he  did  not  get  those  boots  honestly.  They  were  quite 
new." 

"  How  d'you  s'pose  he  got  'em  ?" 

"  There  had  been  a  raid  into  Lexington,  but  the  Confederates  were 
driven  out  by  a  superior  force.  They  only  had  the  town  about  an 
hour,  but  my  patient  had  ])robably  visited  a  boot-store.  He  made 
the  most  of  his  opportunities.  The  boots  were  dangling  at  his  belt 
when  he  was  knocked  over.  Hist !  there  goes  a  gun  I  and  an- 
other I" 

"Them  blowers  are  signalling,"  said  the  captain,  composedly,  as 
he  followed  the  other  up  the  cabin  stair.  "  Whereawav  was  the 
shootin'.  Bill  ?" 

"  Fust  shot  on  the  port  bow,"  answered  the  sailor;  "second,  dead 
ahead.     There  they  go  ag'in  !     Two  shots  on  the  port  bow." 

"  Blank  !"  said  the  ca})tain  ;  "  they  can't  see  us.     That's  certain  ! 


164  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

They  are  only  signallin' !  Watch  out  ahead,  Bill,  for  the  answer. 
Boom  !     There  it  is !     No  lights  on  the  ship,  Bill  ?" 

"Not  a  spark,  sir,  'eept  the  binnacle." 

"  That  ship  to  the  norrard,"  observed  the  captain,  "  ain't  more'u 
a  mile  off.     Keep  quiet,  everybody,  and  listen  !" 

The  patter  of  the  rain  on  the  deck  ;  the  whistle  of  the  Mand  in  the 
rigging ;  the  surge  of  the  sea  as  the  vessel  sped  onward  ;  the  subdued 
rumble  of  the  engines,  deep  down  in  the  ship;  the  wash  and  rattle 
of  the  screw  as  she  rose  and  fell  on  the  long  waves — these  were  the 
sounds  that  the  watchers  heard  and  distinguished.  Then  a  clear, 
metallic  tingle,  like  the  rattle  of  a  sixpence  on  a  sheet  of  glass. 

"  Eight  bells,"  muttered  the  captain,  "  and  close  by  !  Hard  a  port! 
Put  her  nose  a  point  east  of  south.  Must  allow  su'thin'  for  leeway, 
Mr.  Barston,  we  must  run  as  nigh  south  as  we  can  till  dayligiit. 
Them  blowers  are  as  nigh  the  coast  as  they  dare  to  be.  We  must 
go  a  little  nigher." 

""  How  much  offing  do  you  estimate,  captain  ?"  enquired  the  other. 

"Eight  mile  good.  It  was  six  bells  when  we  struck  open  water. 
My  notion  is  this  :  them  blowers  are  jest  strung  out  along  the  coast. 
If  we  run  straight  out  they  will  see  us  by  daylight,  and  we  are  too 
deep  to  make  speed.  If  we  run  down  the  coast  we  can  put  into 
harbour,  mebbe,  if  they  get  too  thick.  They  know  w'e  want  to  make 
Nassau  just  as  well  as  we  do!  And  they  know  the  'Nellie'  is 
spunky,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they  knew  when  we  cast  off  at 
Charleston  wharf.     Dern  'em,  they  know  everything !" 

"  This  promises  to  be  an  interesting  little  adventure,"  observed 
Mr.  Barston.  "  I  would  give  half  a  crown  now  for  a  smoke  !  But 
it  would  not  be  judicious." 

"  Can  smoke  in  the  cabin,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Cabin  !  '  Cabined,  cribbed,  confined  !'  Not  I !  While  you 
M'alk  this  deck  I  am  with  you.     Hark !     I  hear  a  fog-whistle !" 

"  Blower  ahead  !"  said  the  captain.  "  Hard-a-port !  So.  Steady  ! 
I'll  run  till  I  can  hear  the  breakers.  There  was  only  seven  of  'em 
yesterday.     Now  there  must  be  a  dozen  !" 

"A  dozen  what?" 

"  Blowers  !     Quiet  now  and  listen." 

Through  the  slowly-moving  hours  the  "Nellie"  ploughed  her  way 
onward  in  the  thick  darkness.  The  captain  M-atched  the  compass 
with  sleepless  vigilance,  altering  her  course  once  or  twice,  but  driven 
inshore  each  time  by  the  proximity  of  a  vessel  of  the  blockading 
squadron.     Once  he  was  near  enough  to  catch  the  glimmer  of  a  light 


THE   CHASE.  165 

on  the  war-ship.  AVhen  the  dawn  appciired  at  last,  all  eyes  were 
intently  scainiing  the  waste  of  waters,  but,  still  shut  in  by  a  wall  of 
rain-drops,  nothin*:;  was  visible. 

"  Breakers  on  the  starl)oard  bow  !"  sung  out  the  sailor  in  the  fore- 
top,  at  a  moment  when  there  was  a  slight  lull  in  the  storm. 

"  Ave,  ave,  sir !"  responded  the  captain.  "  Bear  a  hand  there  with 
the  lead!  'Ready?" 

"  Ave,  aye,  sir !" 

"  Then  heave !" 

There  was  a  short  interval  of  silence,  except  the  crisp  rattle  of  the 
breakers,  now  audible  to  leeward. 

"  Over  !"  said  the  leadsman. 

"  Heave  again  !     Keep  the  lead  going !     Look  alive  there !" 

The  captain  consulted  the  compass,  listened  intently  to  the  song 
of  the  breakers,  while  he  waited  for  the  leadsman's  report.  It  came 
at  last. 

"  Seven  !" 

"All  right!  Starboard!  Steady!  Keep  her  so,  mate.  Heave, 
Tom !" 

"Over!"  said  the  leadsman. 

"  Thought  so  !  Come  down,  Mr.  Barston,  and  git  a  cup  of  coffee. 
I've  smelt  it  nigh  an  hour.  Call  me,  mate,  if  anvthing  turns 
up." 

The  two  men,  erect  and  vigourous,  despite  their  anxious  vigils,  ate 
like  famished  wolves.  Barston's  long  nap  had  prepared  him  for  the 
subsequent  wakefulness,  and  the  captain  appeared  to  be  indifferent 
to  sleep.  Hot  coffee,  about  a  gill  in  each  pint  cup,  Avashing  from 
side  to  side  as  the  ship  rolled,  ham  and  eggs,  the  latter  delightfully 
fresh,  as  they  were  only  one  day  out,  and  corn  bread  walled  in  by 
ship's  biscuit. 

"  Appetite  all  the  better  for  bad  weather,"  said  the  captain,  with 
his  mouth  full.  "You  git  ginuwine  milk  to-day,  Mr.  Barston. 
Another  cup  of  coffee?" 

"  I  think  I  shall  want  six  more,  at  least,  captain,"  replied  Barston. 
"I  have  been  nibbling  at  corn  bread  for  six  months,  but  have  not 
yet  detected  the  difference  between  that  and  sawdust  pudding.  I'll 
trouble  you  for  a  biscuit." 

"Corn  bread  is  first-class!"  said  the  sailor;  "but  I  remember 
thinking  blubber  delightful  eating  when  I  was  a  whaler." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  other.  "Blubber  is  very  fair  diet  when 
cooked.     I  subsisted  on  it  one  dark  winter." 


166  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

*'  You  !  Then  you  have  been  in  high  latitudes?"  said  the  captain, 
curiously. 

"  Somewhere  in  the  seventies." 

"  I  was  caught  one  winter  in  the  pack,"  said  the  captain,  "and  we 
had  scurvy  bad.  When  the  seals  came  and  we  got  blubber,  the 
scurvy  left  us.     That  was  in  Smith's  Sound." 

"  My  adventures  were  on  the  opposite  side  of Hark  !" 

The  report  of  a  gun,  and  then  a  snappish  report,  as  if  from  their 
own  deck.     Both  men  scrambled  up  the  stair  in  hot  haste. 

"  Shell,  by  the  Three  Kings !"  muttered  Barston.  "  No  mistake 
about  that  snap !" 

A  large  ship  on  the  weather  quarter  bearing  down  on  them,  the 
black  smoke  from  her  funnel  extending  towards  the  "  Nellie"  like 
a  long  finger,  pointing  her  out  as  predestined  prey.  Another  puff 
and  roar,  and  the  crackle  of  another  shell  exploding  between  the 
vessels. 

"Hoop!"  said  the  captain,  as  he  gained  the  deck,  glancing  at  the 
compass  as  he  passed  the  binnacle.  "  Sou'east  and  by  s;)Uth  !  She'll 
bear  another  point  or  two.  Port  a  leetle !  So !  Now  keep  her 
there.  All  hands  make  sail !  Mr.  Barston,  you  know  a  rope  when 
you  see  it — give  us  a  lift,  please !  Cast  the  brails  loose,  there  !  Are 
your  fingers  all  thumbs?  Now,  then,  heave,  yo !  A  leetle  more 
sheet,  mate;  so!  belay.  And  now  for  the  foresail.  Bear  a  hand, 
boys !     Lively  !" 

A  round  shot  now,  striking  the  sea  ahead,  bounding  upward  in  a 
long  curve  and  then  plunging  in  the  water. 

"  That  means  heave  to  !"  observed  the  captain.  "  Thank'ee  !  but 
we  haven't  time  !  Shake  out  the  jib,  mate.  It  will  keep  her  steady 
if  it  don't  help  much.     Dern  the  blower !     He's  shootin'  again  !" 

This  time  it  was  a  shell,  bursting  a  quarter  of  a  mile  short  of  the 
chase.  Mr.  Barston  sat  on  the  cabin  skylight,  and,  striking  a  Vesu- 
vius, lighted  a  cigar. 

"  No  objection  to  smoking  now,  captain,"  he  said,  apologetically. 
"Those  fellows  can  see  us  anyhow,  whether  we  smoke  or  not. 
Come,  take  one." 

"Thank'ee!"  said  the  skipper.  "Bimel)y  I'll  take  one.  Can't 
cuss  with  a  cigar  in  my  mouth  !  And  I  may  have  to  do  some  fancy 
cussin'  before  we  git  outen  this  mess.  Ease  the  foresheet  a  trifle, 
mate.     Let's  have  all  the  wind  we  can  get.     Does  he  gain  on  us?" 

"  Not  an  inch." 

"  That's  bully  !    Hoop  !    That's  another  shell !     Dern  him  I     He 


THE   CHASE.  167 

is  gittiii'  tlic  range!  That  was  closer!  Say,  Mr.  Barston,  you're 
no  good  uj)  here;  s'posie  you  go  down  in  the  cabin?  Some  of  them 
bits  of  old  iron  might  kiniler  scratch  you." 

"  I'll  follow  you,  captain." 

"  Foller !  But  I  can't  go  down  jest  yet.  Do  you  understand  the 
game?  It's  all  ])lain  now.  That  l)lower  chased  us  from  Nassau  to 
Charleston,  and  blazed  away  at  me  jest  as  we  hit  the  bar,  goin'  in. 
I  know  him!  And  he  has  been  steaming  down  the  coast  all  night, 
beauise  he  know'd  I'd  come  out,  and  he  thought  he'd  have  me  dead 
sure.  And  he  won't  fire  solid  shot  at  us  because  he  don't  want  to 
sink  us.  lie  wants  the  cotton.  He  has  been  shellin'  Sumter  for  a 
week,  jest  to  get  his  hand  in.  Hoop!  Look  at  that!"  he  continued, 
as  a  fragment  of  shell  fell  on  the  deck.  "Now  I  call  that  pooty 
good  shootin' !     Don't  you  want  to  go  down  ?" 

"  After  you." 

"  Well,  as  I  was  sayin',  my  idee  is  that  this  blower  intends  to 
have  the 'Nellie'  without  hurtin'  her.  He  don't  mind  shellin' iwf, 
dern  him  !  He  will  keep  us  in  sight  if  he  can.  If  we  have  the  best 
legs,  and  git  away,  he'll  make  for  Nassau.  Then  if  he  gits  in  range, 
he'll  sink  us  if  he  can." 

"  Suppose  we  surrender,  captain  ?" 

"  Surrender !     Forty  thousand  pound  !" 

"  Forty-three  thousand  four  hundred  and  eighty  pounds,  exactly," 
replied  Barston,  consulting  his  pocket-book.  "You  may  call  it 
forty-five  thousand,  as  I  intend  to  distribute  the  fifteen  hundred  and 
twenty  pounds  among  the  officers  and  crew  when  the  *  Nellie'  reaches 
Liverpool ;  that  is,  if  she  ever  gets  there." 

"  I  guess  our  old  supercargo  is  a  kinder  relation  of  yourn  ?"  said 
the  captain,  eyeing  Barston  curiously.     "  I  mean  Mr.  Miles." 

"  No.     He  is  a  gtillant  gentleman,  but  not  related  to  me." 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain,  "  he  has  the  same  sort  of  grit  in  him. 
The  rule  is  for  supercargoes  to  keep  outen  danger,  and  I  told  him 
so.  But  when  we  came  in  we  had  a  little  shootin',  and  he  jest 
loafed  about  the  deck  as  if  they  was  shootin'  pop-guns !  Guess  I'll 
take  that  cigar  now.     Thank'ee !     Hoop  !  it's  a  buster !" 

"  Cabaila." 

"  Aye,  aye !  Well !  The  supercargo  come  aboard  three  days  ago, 
and  had  his  state-room  scraped  from  truck  to  keel.  Brought  a  lot  of 
new  curtains  and  giracracks.  New  carpet  for  the  floor.  Then  he 
told  me  that  we  should  have  a  lady  passenger.  My  stars !  I  was 
nigh  choked,  holdin'  in  the  cussin'.     Wimraen  on  a  blockade-run- 


168  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

ner !  So  he  told  me  it  would  be  his  wife.  That  laid  me  out,  clean  ! 
But  I  met  him  next  day  on  Meeting  street,  and  he  had  her  with 
him.  A  stunner !  They  was  jest  skimmin'  along  under  easy  sail 
when  I  bore  down  on  'em.  I  s'pose  he  told  her  I  was  the  skipper, 
for  she  held  out  her  little  hand  to  me,  sayin',  '  Captain,  I  will  be  a 
good  sailor.'  It  Avas  a  gone  case !  He  came  aboard  in  the  after- 
noon, and  I  told  him  we  could  not  make  any  fight  with  wimmen 
aboard.  He  said,  '  If  it  comes  to  surrender  or  sink,  I'll  surrender. 
But  if  a  man's  pluck  will  pull  us  through,  the  pluck  will  not  be 
Wanting  in  the  lady.'  And  he  looked  jest  as  cool  as  a  cucumber. 
Say  !  when  he  signed  his  papers  he  didn't  write  his  name !" 

"  Yes.     I  think  he  did." 

"  No !  He  didn't  put  any  given  name  at  all !  It  was  just  '  Ring- 
ford,'  or  su'thin'  of  that  sort." 

"  He  signed  his  patronymic.     That  is  legal." 

"  Aye,  aye  !"  said  the  captain,  dubiously.  "  It's  all  right.  The 
counsel  said  so,  and  put  the  seal  on.  You  English  are  a  quare  set, 
anyway  !  It's  my  belief  that  the  young  wild-cat  jest  came  out  here 
after  that  gal !  And  it's  my  belief  that  you  had  no  idee  of  buyin' 
this  ship  two  days  ago  !  You  jest  saw  she  was  tidy,  and  walked  off 
singin'." 

"  My  dear  captain,"  replied  the  other,  "  I  resolved  to  buy  this 
ship  as  soon  as  you  told  me  her  name.  I  suggested  the  propriety 
of  surrendering  because  these  men  are  exposed  to  danger  and 
death.  Do  you  suppose  I  would  kill  a  man  for  a  few  thousand 
pounds  ?" 

"Say,  mate  !"  said  the  captain,  "call  all  hands  aft.  Every  lubber  ! 
I  have  a  word  or  two  to  say.  Now,  men !  this  gentleman  here  is 
owner  and  supercargo.  You  see  that  fellow  shootin'  off  here  to 
windward?  Well,  Mr.  Barston  feels  uneasy  like.  He  don't  want 
to  expose  your  precious  lives.  So  he  says  let's  heave  to  and  give 
up.     What  do  you  say  ?" 

The  men  looked  from  the  captain  to  the  placid  countenance  of 
Mr.  Barston,  who  was  blowing  little  smoke-rings  to  leeward. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak?  Pat  Rielly  !  You  gin'rally  have  your 
jawin'  tacks  aboard.     Speak  out !" 

•'  Sure,  cap'n,"  said  Mr.  Ilielly,  "  we  might  as  well  wait  till  some- 
body is  hurted  !     An'  we  might  put  a  little  more  stame  on " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  steam,  you  lubber  ?"  said  the  cap- 
tain. 

"  The  '  Nellie'  is  not  doin'  her  best  licks,  sir !" 


THE   CEASE.  1G9 

"Well,  Mr.  Barston  says  if  we  do  git  clear  of  these  blowers,  and 
land  in  Liverpool,  he  has  fifteen  hundred  pounds  to  divide  up  among 
vou 


A  cheer  that  drowned  the  roar  of  the  frigate's  gun  interrupted 
him. 

"  Git  out,  you  noisy  hounds  !"  said  the  captain.  "  I  guess  we'll 
run  a  spell  longer.  Tumble  forrard  there!  You  see  how  it  is, 
Mr.  Bai-ston.  That  Irish  whelp  was  quite  c'rect.  The  'Nellie' 
aint  doin'  nigh  her  best!  I  am  keepin'  her  jest  this  far  off  until 
dark,  and  have  got  all  sails  set,  jest  to  fool  them  fellows  !  As  soon 
as  it  is  dark,  I  intend  to  i>nt  on  speed  and  steam  straight  out  across 
that  frigate's  bows!  And  I  intend  to  give  Nassau  a  wide  berth,- and 
try  for  Kingston,  Jamaiky.  We  can  git  coals  and  clearance  there. 
What  do  you  say,  sir?" 

"  Your  plan  has  my  hearty  approval,  captain,"  replied  the  owner ; 
'•  but  can't  you  widen  the  distance  a  little  before  dark  ?" 

"  Wouldn't  be  safe  !  Daren't  make  a  knot  more  than  we're  doin'. 
If  the  Irigate  found  we  were  slipping  away,  we  should  have  solid 
shot  cavortin'  round  here  quite  lively.  Bless  you  !  she  has  rifled 
cannon;  and  would  knock  us  into  a  wreck  in  an  hour.  Noiv,  she 
wants  to  capture,  and  don't  want  to  sink  us.  And  by  this  time  to- 
morrow she'll  he  cussin'  herself  outen  her  boots  because  she  didn't 
sink  us  to-day  !  Bim  !  That  shell  busted  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off! 
Mate  !  slow  her  down  a  bit  more.  Port  a  little  !  So.  steady  !  You 
see  I'm  runnin'  inshore.  The  wind  is  fiiUing,  mebbe  we  may  git  a 
foor  before  nisht !  Let's  take  a  look  at  the  barometer.  Mate !  set 
the  lead  agroin'  arain  !     We  are  crawlin'  in  on  the  coast.' 

The  captain's  hope  was  fulfilled  within  an  hour.  The  frigate 
melted  out  of  sight  in  the  fog  that  settled  down  upon  the  sea.  At 
the  first  announcement  of  soundings  from  the  leadsman  the  steamer's 
prow  was  once  more  turned  to  the  east,  the  sails  all  furled,  and  under 
a  full  head  of  steam  she  ploughed  her  way  over  the  billows. 
njOn  the  following  day  the  sun  dispelled  the  mist,  and  the  "Nellie" 
had  a  perfectly  clear  horizon.  One  day  later,  she  was  within  the 
tropics.  On  Sunday  morning  Mr.  Barston  presented  his  papers  to 
the  official  in  the  harbour  of  Kingston.  All  risks  were  now  over, 
except  the  "  dangers  of  the  seas."  A  new  supply  of  coals  was  taken 
aboard,  and  the  captain  informed  Mr.  Barston  of  his  readiness  to 
sail  at  noon  on  Monday. 

"  Then  I  bid  you  '  bon  voyage,'  captain,"  said  Mr.  Barston.  "  Here 
are  your  papers.     The  ship  is  consigned  to  Herrick  and  Co.,  Liver- 


170  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

pool,  who  are  instructed  to  disburse  the  fifteen  liundred  and  twenty 
pounds  as  you  may  advise,  in  such  proportions " 

"  Share  and  share  alike !"  said  the  captain,  promptly.  "  There 
was  fifteen  shells  shot  at  us.  That's  a  hundred  pound  a  shell,  and 
every  man  took  his  share  of  the  splinters." 

"  You  are  right !"  replied  Mr.  Barston,  admiringly.  "  I  am  going 
to  Porto  Rico  and  then  to  Havana,  and  then  to  England.  Good- 
bye !" 

AVith  which  salutation  this  gentleman  retires  from  the  present 
narrative.  The  reader  will  regret  this  the  less,  as  his  story  is  told 
elsewhere. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

Across  Channel. 

'^EBA  marched  steadfastly  onward,  his  face  turned  to  the  setting 
^-^  sun.  At  one  of  the  villages  through  which  he  passed  he 
invested  fifteen  shillings  in  a  second-hand  camlet  cloak,  that  was 
about  fifty  years  behind  the  fashion  and  six  months  ahead  of  the 
season.  But  he  missed  the  sun  of  India,  and  the  cloak  concealed 
his  tulwar,  which  attracted  attention  wherever  he  went. 

There  was  something  sublime  about  the  patient  confidence  of  the 
man.  He  was  searching  for  Sahib  Rayneford,  with  no  clue  except 
the  point  of  his  sword.  He  knew  nothing  about  the  appearance  of 
the  missing  man,  except  the  vague  ideas  gathered  from  the  picture 
of  the  late  Lady  Rayneford  ;  yet  he  studied  the  visages  of  the  men 
he  met  in  his  wanderings  with  untiring  vigilance.  He  listened  to 
all  the  conversations  in  tap-rooms,  and  at  other  places  where  he 
rested  and  took  his  frugal  meals,  expecting  to  catch  some  hint  that 
would  reveal  to  him  the  possible  whereabouts  of  the  lost  noble.  He 
asked  no  questions,  relying  with  unflinching  faith  upon  the  revej^- 
tions  of  his  weapon.  He  felt  no  disappointment  or  impatience,  as 
day  after  day  passed,  bringing  no  tokens  of  success,  until  his  progress 
was  arrested  by  the  waters  of  Bristol  Channel. 

It  was  at  the  town  of  Ilfracombe,  and  the  dim,  blue  line  of  the 
AVelsh  coast  was  visible  across  the  water.  Zeba  spent  a  day  here, 
stalking  through  the  town,  and  furtively  scrutinising  the  faces  he 
encountered.  He  had  been  deflected  from  his  rigid  course  by  the 
curves  in  the  road,  and  by  the  crests  of  high  hills,  and  had  travelled 


ACROSS   CHANNEL.  171 

rather  more  towards  the  ;south  tliaii  he  tlesired  or  inteiKled.  But  he 
oonsultetl  his  map,  and  IbniKl  that  he  had  omitted  no  village  or  town 
between  llawklev  and  his  j)resent  resting-place,  lie  had  kept  the 
line  ot"  march  with  commendable  accuracy,  and  as  there  was  no  limit 
indicated,  lie  had  only  to  pursue  the  same  inflexible  line  until  some 
insurmountable  obstacle  opposed  his  progress.  At  j)rcsent  there  was 
nothing  in  the  way  except  the  salt  waves  of  the  Channel. 

While  he  meditated  in  a  corner  of  the  travellers'-room  at  the 
Anchor  Inn,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  some  words  spoken  at  a 
table  near  his  own. 

"^lilford  Haven.  Going  in  an  hour.  Only  waiting  for  the 
tide." 

The  speaker  was  a  seafaring  man,  evidently.  A  coat  made  of 
yellow  canvas,  oiled  and  water-proof,  a  sou'wester  hat  of  the  same 
material,  the  long  flap  hanging  down  his  back.  There  had  been  a 
little  shower,  and  these  garments,  being  wet,  looked  as  though  they 
had  been  newly  varnished.  A  long  black  beard,  slightly  grizzled, 
covered  his  mouth  and  chin,  and  was  at  this  moment  flecked  with 
foam  Ciuight  from  the  pewter  mug  in  his  horny  hand.  Zeba  saw  all 
this  at  his  first  glance,  which  confirmed  his  recognition  of  the  deaf 
mate  of  the  "  Bengal,"  Mr.  Jones.  The  gruff  tones  of  his  voice  had 
already  revealed  his  identity  to  the  watchful  Hindoo. 

The  other  man  was  busily  writing  on  Mr.  Jones's  slate.  He  was 
a  wiry-looking  fellow,  with  scanty  red  hair,  red  eyes,  restless  and 
suspicious,  darting  sharp  glances  all  around  the  room.  He  pushed 
the  slate  across  the  little  table  when  he  finished  his  inscription.  The 
sailor  read  it  rapidly. 

"  Heard  there  was  a  tidy  fishing-boat  here,  and  came  over  to  buy 
her.  Came  in  a  tug,  bound  for  Bristol.  Xow^  I  am  going  back  in 
my  own  boat.  Bought  her.  But  she  is  in  the  mud  at  high- water 
mark.  Am  waiting  for  the  tide  to  lift  her."  And  he  brushed  his 
wet  sleeve  over  the  slate,  pushed  it  back  to  his  companion,  and  put 
some  more  froth  on  his  beard.  The  red-haired  man  wrote  a  line  or 
two,  and  again  presented  the  slate. 

"  Manage  the  boat  easy  enough.  Jib-sheets  trailed  aft.  D'ye 
want  to  cross?  Will  tid<e  you  over  in  two  or  three  hours.  Good 
moon  and  wind  stiddy." 

The  red-eyed  man  shuddered  visibly  at  the  suggestion.  Evidently 
he  did  not  take  kindly  to  the  sea.  He  wrote  again,  after  glancing 
restlessly  around,  and  gave  back  the  slate.  The  mate  read  and 
pondered,  while  he  erased  the  writing  as  before. 


172  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Don't  know  what  business  that  is  of  yours,"  he  growled,  at  last. 
"  I  may  know  a  Mr.  Rayneford  and  I  may  not.  Don't  know  any 
hereaway." 

Zeba  pulled  the  cape  of  his  cloak  over  his  face,  and,  supporting 
his  head  with  his  hand,  fell  into  profound  slumber.  His  table  Mas 
near  that  of  the  sailor,  and  he  could  hear  the  grating  of  the  pencil 
in  his  dreams  as  the  red-eyed  man  wrote.  Presently  Mr.  Jones 
spoke  again. 

"  Seems  to  me,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  I  have  heard  the  name.  Can't 
remember  whether  it  was  in  England  or  in  some  furrin  port.  Let 
me  see!  Didn't  he  live  over  here  in  Somerset?  Aye,  aye! 
Thought  so  !     What  do  you  want  ?" 

Another  scratch  on  the  slate. 

"  Aye,  aye  !  Something  to  his  advantage.  Well,  the  Rayneford 
I  know  is  A  one,  full-rigged  and  copper-fastened  !  Hails  from  Som- 
erset. Does  that  fill  your  bill  ?  Well,  I  might  have  seen  him  a 
week  ago — say  ten  days  ago.  That  was  off  Eddystone  Light. 
Heard  from  him  since.  He  was  at  Taunton  then.  That's  all  I 
know.  Here,  Mary,  my  dear !  bring  us  another  mug.  What  is 
the  advantage?     Fortin'  left  him?" 

Zeba  dreamed  he  heard  the  bar-maid's  skirts  rustle  as  she  whisked 
by  him,  and  the  clank  of  the  mug  which  she  placed  before  Mr. 
Jones.  Mingled  with  these  sounds  there  was  the  scratching  of  the 
pencil. 

"  Coaster  ?"  grunted  the  sailor.  "  Well,  you  may  call  it  a  coaster 
if  you  like  !  It  coasted  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  to  London  ! 
Mr.  Rayneford  was  a  passenger,  and  he  left  the  ship  at  Plymouth. 
He  went  to  Taunton.  What  for?  Dunno,  unless  it  was  for  rum  ! 
I  know  he  got  some  rum  there !  And  that's  all  I  know.  Mary, 
my  dear!  Here  is  my  shilling.  Fourpence  change ?  Keep  it,  my 
dear.  I'll  take  another  turn  in  your  long  street.  Tide  must  be  nigh 
flood  by  this  time." 

The  banging  of  the  fly-door  as  the  sailor  rolled  out  aroused  the 
slumbering  Hindoo,  who  arose,  and,  walking  lightly  as  a  cat,  also 
passed  out.  The  man  with  ferret  eyes  was  busily  jotting  in  his  mem- 
orandum-book the  valuable  information  obtained  from  Mr.  Jones. 

There  is  a  half-mile  of  pier  at  Ilfracombe.  The  yellow  coat  and 
sou'wester  made  the  sailor  conspicuous,  as  he  tramped  along  the 
street  and  out  on  the  long  pier.  The  dark  cloak  and  noiseless  step 
of  Zeba  made  him  look  like  a  shadow  flitting  behind  him.  Half- 
way out,  the  mate  scrambled  down  on  the  shingle,  meeting  a  man 


ACIiOSS   CHANNEL.  173 

who  arose  from  the  bows  of  a  large  fishing-boat  as  he  approached. 
The  stern  of  the  boat  nv.ls  rising  and  falling  as  the  tide  rolled  in. 
Zeba  squatted  down  on  the  edge  of  the  pier  and  watched. 

"  Aye,  aye  !"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "  almost  afloat.  Can  push  her  off  in 
ten  minutes  more.  Here  is  your  'arf-crown.  Don't  want  you  any 
longer.     I  can  h'ist  the  sail  here  in  the  lee  of  the  pier.     Good  night  I" 

The  man  walked  along  the  white  shingle,  the  moon  painting  out 
his  black  sluulow  as  he  crept  onward  towards  the  town.  The  mate 
took  the  seat  he  iiad  vacated,  and  lighted  liis  pipe.  Zeba,  crouching 
on  the  pier  above,  patiently  waited. 

Knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  Mr.  Jones  got  into  the  boat 
and  hoisted  the  sail.  The  pier  broke  the  force  of  the  southeast 
wind,  and  the  sail  swayed  gently  back  and  forth,  the  boom  playing 
over  the  gunwales.  Mr.  Jones  fumbled  with  the  sheet,  but  at  last 
got  it  secured.  He  shipped'  the  tiller,  drawing  the  larboard  sheet 
taut,  and  securing  it  with  two  half-hitches  over  a  cleat  in  the  stern. 
When  he  stepped  out  on  the  shingle,  prepared  to  push  the  boat  off, 
Zeba  stood  by  his  side. 

"  Salaam,  sahib  !"  bawled  the  Hindoo. 

"Hillo!"  responded  the  mate,  startled.  "Where  the  devil  did 
you  come  from  ?" 

"  Taunton,"  said  Zeba,  giving  the  name  of  the  largest  town  he 
had  seen  on  English  soil.  The  mate  held  out  his  slate,  and  Zeba 
wrote  the  name  with  his  left  hand. 

"Aye,  aye!     And  whither  bound,  shipmate?" 

"  Milford.     Sahib  take  me  in  his  little  ship?"     This  in  a  scream. 

"  Hum  !     S'pose  I  am  going  up  channel  ?" 

"  But  sahib  said  he  was  going  to  Milford,"  screamed  the  Indian  ; 
"  don't  know  up  channel.  Can  put  up  sail,  put  down  sail.  What- 
ever sahib  say." 

"  Get  aboard  !"  said  Mr.  Jones,  after  a  moment's  reflection.  "  Take 
the  tiller,  and  when  I  push  off  put  it  hard  a-port.  D'ye  under- 
stand ?" 

"Yes,  sahib,"  answered  Zeba,  promptly;  "learned  all  that  at 
Cape.  Need  not  push  off.  If  sahib  come  astern,  ship  float  off." 
He  wrote  the  last  words  on  the  sailor's  slate. 

"  Good,  hard  sense  in  the  nigger's  head,"  muttered  Mr.  Jones. 
"I'll  see  what  he  can  do.  Take  the  main-sheet,  blackie,"  he  con- 
tinued, aloud,  "and  let  us  see  how  you  manoeuvre  the  barky.  Not 
much  risk  in  the  lee  of  the  pier,  anyway." 

In  addition  to  the  two  mutrs  which  Zeba  had  seen  the  sailor  im- 


174  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

bibe,  he  had  taken  sundry  mugs  during  the  afternoon,  and  while  he 
was  perfectly  able  to  navigate,  he  was  still  in  a  muddled  condition. 
The  boat  floated  off  according  to  Zeba's  prediction,  and  deftly  passing 
the  main-sheet  around  his  knee,  he  seized  the  tiller  and  steered  boldly 
out  from  the  pier.     The  mate  watched  him  closely. 

"  Pretty  well  for  a  man  with  one  arm !"  he  ejaculated.  "  If  he 
don't  lose  his  head  when  we  strike  open  water,  I'm  blest  if  I  don't 
take  a  nap !" 

The  boat  glided  onward,  sheltered  by  the  pier,  in  comparatively 
smooth  water.  As  she  emerged  from  this  covering  the  sail  swelled 
out,  the  little  vessel  bent  gently  over,  and  the  tug  of  the  sheet  on 
Zeba's  knee  was  tremendous.  Slipping  forward  in  his  seat,  he  placed 
iiis  back  against  the  head  of  the  tiller,  and  then,  with  his  liberated 
hand,  he  loosened  the  sheet,  letting  the  sail  swing  freely  out,  clutch- 
ing the  helm  again  as  soon  as  this  was  accomplished.  The  boat 
raced  out  into  the  Channel  with  accelerated  speed. 

"  Good  again  !"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  Sails  like  a  witch  !  Wind 
stiddy.     D'ye  see  those  two  stars,  blackie  ?" 

Zeba  nodded. 

"  Can  you  steer  right  between  them  ?" 

Zeba  drew  the  tiller  to  windward,  the  boat  fell  off  a  point  or  two, 
then  settled  down  to  the  course  indicated. 

"  You'll  get  promoted  mate  !"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  I  name  you  able 
seaman  now.  Keep  them  stars  where  they  are,  and  wake  me  when 
you  see  the  light.  Or  if  anything  goes  wrong,  shake  me  up.  Roll 
over  against  me,  kick,  tramp  on  my  feet,  anything !  D'ye  under- 
stand ?" 

Zeba  nodded. 

"Only  want  five  minutes,"  observed  the  sailor,  apologetically; 
"  must  have  eaten  some  stuff  that  disagrees  with  me  !" 

The  five  minutes  grew  into  an  hour,  the  boat  bounding  over  the 
short  waves  of  the  Channel.  The  breathing  of  the  sailor  deepened 
into  a  pronounced  snore.  Zeba,  keeping  vigilant  watch  upon  the 
stars,  chanted  a  Hindoo  war-song,  with  a  monotonous  wail  for  the 
refrain,  which  was  really  a  glorification  of  the  invincible  tulwar. 
In  the  midst  of  one  of  these  quavering  stanzas  he  put  the  helm 
down,  bringing  the  boat  head  to  wind,  to  wait  for  the  passage  of  a 
schooner  passing  down  Channel.  The  altered  motion  of  the  boat 
wakened  Mr.  Jones.  Zeba  was  informing  the  mermaids  of  the 
Channel  that  the  warrior's  tulwar  was  like  the  resistless  flow^  of  the 
Ganges,  in  tones  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  them  forty  fathoms 


ACROSS   CHANNEL.  175 

below  the  surface.  ^Ir.  Jones  was  rubbing  his  eyes  as  the  schooner 
glided  bv,*and  the  Hindoo's  last  words  were  echoed  from  the  stern 
of  the  vessel  with  startling  accuracy,  and  in  a  key  a  full  octave 
above  his  own  voice.  At  the  same  instant  the  transoms  in  the 
schooner's  stern  closed  with  a  clash. 

"Running  a  little  too  close,  mate !"  said  Mr.  Jones,  taking  the 
tiller  and  drawing  in  the  main-sheet.  The  boat  fell  off,  pointing 
once  more  to  the  double  stars.  "Now  if  it  had  not  been  bright 
moonlight  that  fellow  might  have  run  us  down.  He  is  going  his 
best.  Both  tiiw'sails,  jib  and  flying-jib.  How  long  have  we  been 
running?  Nigh  an  hour,  I  fancy.  If  that  isn't  Nord's  Head  I'm 
a  Dutchman  !  Milford  Haven  five  miles  off,  right  under  the  lee- 
bow.     Well  steered,  mate !" 

Zeba  relinquished  the  helm  and  coiled  himself  up  between  thwarts, 
staring  at  the  departing  schooner  as  the  boom  lifted  with  the  roll 
of  the  boat.  All  was  quiet  on  board,  and  nothing  visible  except 
the  twinkling  light  at  the  head  of  the  foremast.  The  keen  vision 
of  the  Hindoo  availed  nothing,  and  the  schooner  gradually  melted 
out  of  sight  to  seaward. 

Mr.  Jones  very  soon  recovered  the  full  use  of  his  faculties,  and 
the  "  Ripple"  bounced  over  the  waves  in  gallant  style  under  his 
guidance.  When  they  doubled  the  point  at  the  entrance  of  the  har- 
bour a  steamer  passed  them,  and  her  passengers  were  going  ashore 
as  the  "  Ripple"  glided  into  the  narrow  dock  above  the  landing. 
The  sailor  lowered  the  jib  and  mainsail,  securing  them  with  skilful 
fingers,  while  Zeba  stood  on  the  dock  watching  him. 

"  All  snug  alow  and  aloft,"  said  the  mate,  as  he  stepped  ashore 
with  the  anchor-chain  in  his  hand.  He  passed  the  end  of  the  chain 
through  an  iron  ring  on  the  dock,  drew  the  links  together,  fastened 
them  with  a  padlock,  and  dropped  the  key  into  the  pocket  of  his 
oilskin  coat. 

He  stood  regarding  the  Indian  a  few  moments,  as  if  in  doubt 
about  the  relations  subsisting  between  them.  Zeba  endured  the 
scrutiny  with  stoical  patience. 

"  Know  anybody  in  Milford  ?"  he  asked,  at  length.  Zeba  shook 
his  head.  There  were  two  or  three  boys  on  the  dock,  conversing  in 
the  language  of  the  bards,  and  the  Hindoo  listened  with  wonder  at 
the  unwonted  sounds. 

"  Better  come  with  me,"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  I  can  give  you  a 
shake-<lown  to-night,  and  to-morrow  we'll  go  fishing." 

As  they  moved  up  the  pier  they  passed  the  covered  entrance  to 


..  _  A 


176  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

the  steamboat  landing.  The  few  passengers  were  straggling  out  of 
the  building,  and  Zeba  touched  the  arm  of  his  companion  and  pointed 
out  one  of  the  new-comers  a  few  steps  in  advance  of  them.  The 
sailor  looked  in  the  indicated  direction  and  caught  a  furtive  glance 
out  of  ferret  eyes  thrown  back  at  them  and  instantly  averted. 

"  Aye,  aye  !"  said  Mr.  Jones,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "  he  is  looking 
after  me.  I  don't  owe  him  anything,  as  I  knows  on.  Anyway, 
we'll  fool  him  a  bit.     Keep  close  and  follow  me." 

Down  through  a  blind  alley,  which  the  mate  traversed  rapidly, 
knowing  every  inch  of  the  way;  then  emerging  in  a  lighted  street, 
and  pausing  at  a  shop  window ;  then  back  again,  through  the  alley, 
to  the  pier,  and  to  the  dock  where  the  "  Ripple"  was  secured.  The 
boys  were  still  there,  and  ]Mr.  Jones  addressed  them  in  Welsh,  ad- 
vising them  to  retire  to  their  respective  couches,  as  the  night  waned. 
Zeba  drew  the  corner  of  his  cloak  over  his  face  to  avert  the  storm  of 
objurgation  which  he  supposed  the  unknown  accents  conveyed.  As 
the  juveniles  withdrew  the  sailor  seated  himself  on  a  beam,  drew 
forth  his  pipe  and  indulged  in  a  quiet  smoke.  All  this  time  the 
red-eyed  man  kept  them  in  view,  dodging  into  the  shadow  whenever 
possible,  and  keeping  a  respectful  distance.  When  the  pipe  was  out 
Mr.  Jones  arose,  and,  taking  Zeba's  arm,  walked  soberly  into  a  public 
house  at  the  town-end  of  the  pier.  It  was  a  house  frequented  ex- 
clusively by  natives,  and  the  harsh  intonations  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
tongue  were  apparently  unknown  within  its  walls.  The  mate  or- 
dered bread  and  cheese,  while  he  watched  the  efforts  of  his  quondam 
companion  at  Ilfracombe  to  make  his  wants  known.  At  last  the 
red-eyed  man  departed  in  disgust,  and  after  one  moderate  libation, 
and  one  immoderate  fit  of  laughter,  the  sailor  and  his  guest  departed 
also.  The  coast  was  clear,  and  a  short  walk  brought  the  two  to  Mr. 
Jones's  lodgings. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  the  host,  as  Zeba  stretched  himself  on  a  cot 
that  stood  in  a  corner — "  to-morrow,  if  wind  and  weather  serve, 
we'll  try  the  fish.     You're  welcome !     Good  night !" 

Kicking  off  his  boots,  divesting  himself  of  oilskin  coat  and  hat, 
he  rolled  himself  into  a  similar  cot,  laughing  solus  at  the  memory  of 
the  discomfited  ferret,  who  was  at  the  same  moment  noting  down 
the  number  of  his  house  and  the  name  of  the  street  by  the  waning 
moonlight. 


FISHING.  177 

CHAPTER    XXX. 

Fishing. 

MR.  JONES  occupied  a  modest  cottage  near  the  pier.  He  had 
a  tenant  on  the  second  floor,  who  engaged  to  keep  a  general 
supervision  over  the  premises  in  consideration  of  a  moderate  rent, 
and  who  was  expected  to  see  the  outer  tloors  locked  at  night,  in  case 
the  hindlord  should  not  be  in  condition  iiimself  to  attend  to  that 
dutv.  On  the  morning  after  the  cruise  of  the  "  Ripple,"  the  cx-mate 
slept  late,  and  the  tenant,  Mr.  Flillen,  was  the  sole  witness  of  Zeba's 
extraordinary  antics  in  the  back  yard. 

There  was  something  unusual  in  the  ceremony  on  this  occasion. 
The  Hindoo  was  without  clothing  excepting  a  pair  of  short  drawers, 
covering  his  brown  body  from  the  waist  to  his  hips.  He  was 
dancing  around  a  stunted  tree  that  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  narrow 
yard,  whirling  his  tulwar  in  all  directions,  tossing  and  catching  it  as 
it  descended,  sometimes  on  one  side  of  the  tree  and  sometimes  on  the 
other.  At  last  he  suspended  the  blade  from  a  branch  by  a  cord, 
twirling  it  violently  as  he  quitted  the  hilt. 

"  Beebe !"  he  said,  squatting  on  his  haunches,  while  the  sword 
gyrated,  sparkling  in  the  morning  sun. 

When  the  revohitions  ceased,  he  took  a  boat-hook  that  stood  in  a 
corner  of  the  enclosure  and  stuck  it  in  the  ground,  after  sighting 
along  tiie  blade.  The  point  of  the  weapon  was  towards  the  west, 
and  the  Indian  spread  his  chart  out  on  the  ground,  beside  the  com- 
pass. Apparently  satisfied  with  his  test,  he  took  the  blade  from  the 
tree,  and  carefully  wiped  it  with  a  handful  of  leaves.  He  held  it 
up,  pointing  to  the  sun,  and  chanted  the  ode  of  the  previous  night, 
apparently  assuring  tlie  great  luminary  that  the  tulwar  in  the  hand 
of  its  lord  was  like  the  rush  of  waters  in  the  great  cataract  of  the 
sacred  river.  Then  he  cast  the  sword  upward,  caught  it  in  descent, 
hung  it  on  the  branch  again,  and  caused  it  to  gyrate  as  before. 

"  Sahib !" 

The  motion  cea'^cd  at  last,  the  sword  pointing  a  little  south  of 
east.  Once  more  the  Hindoo  ascertained  the  direction,  sighting 
along  the  blade,  then  removing  the  boat-hook,  which  he  stuck  up 
behind  the  hilt,  and  again  consulted  his  chart  and  compass.  Mr. 
Jones  touched  him  on  the  shoulder,  curiously  inspecting  the  stump 
of  his  lost  arm  while  he  was  thus  eno-affcd.  Zeba  arose  and  bowed 
courteously  to  his  host.     Then,  with  his  slender  finger,  he  pointed 

12 


178  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

to  a  spot  on  the  chart.  The  sailor  glanced  at  it,  his  practised  eye 
recognising  the  coast  lines  on  the  instant. 

"  Linton  Sands,"  said  Mr.  Jones.  "  There  is  where  we  will  fish 
to-day." 

"  Ready,"  wrote  Zeba,  on  the  deaf  man's  slate. 

'*  Better  get  some  toggery  on  first,"  observed  his  host ;  "  people 
will  think  I  have  canght  a  one-armed  gorilla  if  I  take  you  through 
the  streets  in  that  fashion.  Besides,  we  want  grub.  Come  in  the 
house  and  we  will  get  up  some  breakfast." 

The  "  Ripple"  danced  out  of  her  miniature  dock  at  nine  o'clock. 
Mr.  Jones  skipper,  Zeba  crew.  A  trim  schooner  lay  in  the  stream, 
just  off  the  entrance  to  the  dock.  As  they  passed  under  her  stern 
Zeba  read  the  name,  "Juliet."  Mr.  Jones  ran  a  critical  eye  over 
vessel  and  rigging. 

"  Some  swell's  yacht,"  he  said.  "  About  eighty  tons,  I  fancy. 
Very  good  little  craft  for  smooth  waters.  Masts  rake  too  much,  and 
too  lofty  for  the  hull.  Well  found,  no  doubt,  in  gimcracks.  No 
better  than  the  'Ripple'  in  a  gale  !  Came  down  from  Cardiff  yes- 
terday, ready  for  a  cruise.  Wanted  me  to  sail  her.  Dock-master 
asked  rae  yesterday.  But  I  am  too  old  to  be  swore  at  by  a  land- 
lubber !     Rather  go  fishing  with  you,  blackie !" 

Out  past  the  light-house,  and  on  the  open  Channel.  The  weather 
was  fine,  but  the  long  swell  coming  in  from  the  Atlantic  tossed  the 
fishing-boat  about  rather  more  than  Zeba  approved.  He  crouched 
down  in  the  stern  sheets,  while  the  skipper  "  manoovered"  the 
vessel,  examining  his  compass  occasionally,  and  keeping  his  sharp 
eye  on  a  spot  of  white  water  dead  ahead.  Beyond  this,  the  top  of 
a  light-house  stood  out  against  the  clear  sky. 

"  Yonder  is  Linton  Sands,"  observed  Mr.  Jones ;  "  it  was  a  bad 
bit  of  navigation  in  ray  young  days.  But  government  has  built  the 
light-house  since  I  went  to  Calcutta,  and  now  it  is  safe  enough.  It 
is  only  the  craft  from  Bristol  that  need  the  light.  I  know  all  the 
ins  and  outs  of  them  sands.  Good  anchorage  in  forty  places,  and 
good  fishing.  We  must  keep  a  good  south  offing  until  the  light-house 
lines  with  the  mountain  there  on  the  mainland.     Then  run  in." 

A  stone  building  of  one  story  connected  with  the  tower,  standing 
on  a  ridge  of  rocks  not  much  above  the  surface.  Then  little  sand 
islands,  a  score  of  them,  spreading  out  towards  the  Welsh  coast, 
the  waves  breaking  over  the  most  of  them,  and  thus  making  thou- 
sands of  acres  of  white  water.  No  signs  of  vegetation  anywhere. 
Close  by  the  light-house,  a  rocky  island  of  small  extent,  and  a 


FISHING.  179 

narrow  channel  of  still  water.  Into  this  channel  the  "  Ripple"  glided, 
and,  obedient  to  a  sign  from  the  skipper,  Zeba  (Iroi)ped  the  anchor. 
The  sails  were  fnrled,  and  the  two  were  speedily  endejivonring  to 
entice  the  fish  to  nibble  at  the  bait.  A  man  came  out  of  the  tower, 
letting  himself  down  by  an  iron  ladder  bolted  to  the  structure,  and 
walked  down  to  the  verge  of  the  rock. 

"Hillo,  dad!"  said  the  man. 

"  Ilillo,  Tom  !"  answered  ^Ir.  Jones. 

"  A\'liat  have  you  got  aboard,  dad  ?"  bawled  the  other. 

"Injin.  Passenger  in  the  *  Bengal.'  Found  him  last  night  at 
Ilfraeombe.     How  do  you  like  the  barky  ?" 

"  She'll  do.  Mast  stepped  too  much  forward.  Can't  bawl. 
Come  ashore  when  you're  ready." 

"  Aye,  aye  !"  responded  the  elder ;  "  got  a  bite  now."  The  son, 
who  carried  an  oil-can,  disappeared  in  the  low  building,  and  pres- 
ently returned  and  rcclimbed  into  the  tower,  having  replenished  his 
can.  In  a  few  minutes  his  head  was  projected  over  the  grating  that 
surrounded  the  lantern. 

"  Dad !"  he  screamed,  drowning  the  rush  of  the  breakers  that 
washed  the  base  of  the  tower — "  dad  !  did  you  see  a  yacht  at  Mil- 
ford?" 

"Aye,  aye!"  replied  Mr.  Jones — "an  eighty  tonner;  schooner 
rigged  ;  masts  rake  like  blazes." 

"Good!"  said  the  younger,  withdrawing  his  head. 

Zeba  had  taken  in  all  the  surroundings  by  this  time.  The  low 
ledge  of  rocks  that  lay  south  of  the  light-house  served  as  a  break- 
water. Xo  storm  that  came  from  the  west  or  south  would  be  likely 
to  damage  the  building.  On  the  north  and  east  the  sandy  islets 
afforded  similar  protection.  There  were  times  when  all  the  area  of 
Linton  Sands  was  covered  with  foaming  breakers.  In  such  a  time, 
the  one  secure  anchorage  was  the  very  spot  where  the  "Ripple"  now 
rode  on  the  gentle  swell ;  and  even  there,  no  craft  whose  hull  rose 
above  the  rocky  barriers  on  either  side  could  live  a  mornent.  On 
the  northwest  the  building  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  rock,  presenting 
only  blank  walls  of  cemented  stone,  and  the  storms  of  four  or  five 
winters  had  beaten  against  this  wall,  producing  no  impression.  The 
water  was  shoal  all  around  the  light-house,  and  at  low  tide  the  sea 
broke  three  or  four  hundred  yards  to  the  westward.  At  present  it 
was  high  water,  and  the  waves  foamed  and  frothed  at  the  founda- 
tions of  the  round  tower. 

Zeba  had  taken  in  all  this.     lie  had  also  taken  in  an  accurate 


180  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

estimate  of  the  character  of  Tom  Jones,  Junior,  and  his  estimate 
was  not  flattering.  Something  in  the  tones  of  his  voice;  something 
in  the  sharp,  suspicious  glance  of  his  eye ;  something  in  the  furtive 
scrutiny  of  the  Indian's  placid  face;  something  in  his  slouching  gait 
as  he  passed  from  tower  to  house  and  back  again — all  of  these  tokens 
Zeba  rapidly  translated  into  choice  Hindoostanee,  and  the  phrase  they 
made  was  equivalent  to  "rascal"  in  English. 

When  the  son  came  back  to  the  water-side  he  beckoned  his  father 
ashore.  The  elder  tossed  a  line  to  his  son,  who  drew  the  stern  of 
the  "  Ripple"  near  enough  for  his  progenitor  to  step  on  the  rock. 
The  boat  swung  back  again  with  Zeba  still  aboard,  and  father  and 
son  entered  the  low  building.  Zeba  continued  his  piscatorial  occu- 
pation. 

Sitting  in  the  bow  of  the  "  Ripple,"  the  Hindoo  had  a  view  of  the 
dwelling.  There  were  three  windows  and  a  door.  The  window 
next  the  tower  was  curtained,  but  both  sashes — for  all  the  windows 
were  furnished  with  double  sashes — were  up.  The  curtain  waved 
in  the  breeze,  giving  occasional  glimpses  of  the  interior.  The  rest- 
less eye  of  the  Indian  moved  over  the  entire  building.  "While  he 
watched,  a  woman  came  out,  went  to  a  M'ater-cask  that  was  bolted 
down  to  the  rock,  and  filled  a  pitcher  with  water.  Presently  Zeba 
heard  the  clink  of  glasses,  and  he  inferred  that  father  and  son  were 
indulging  in  a  libation.  Then  the  curtain  blew  aside  under  a  puff 
of  wind  a  little  stronger  than  usual,  and  he  saw  the  head  and  shoul- 
ders of  a  woman,  apparently  reclining  on  a  couch  near  the  window. 
Then  he  began  to  chant  in  Hindoostanee.  The  reader  will  probably 
prefer  an  English  version  of  his  poem. 

"  Let  the  lips  of  Beebe  be  sealed  I 
One  watMies  and  sleeps  not. 
The  bite  of  the  cobra  is  death  ; 
But  the  stroke  of  the  tulwar  is  swift, 
And  the  Lord  of  the  tulwar " 

"  Hillo,  blackie !"  said  Mr.  Jones,  issuing  from  the  door,  followed 
by  his  son.     "  What  are  you  howling  about  ?" 

"  Don't  want  any  more  of  that  infernal  gibberish !"  added  the 
younger  Jones. 

Zeba  half  rose  and  bowed. 

"  Singing  to  the  fishes,  sahib,"  he  said,  deprecatingly. 

"  Never  mind  the  fishes  !"  growled  Jones,  Junior.  "  Time  you 
were  going,  dad,  if  you  want  this  tide."  This  sentence  was  a  howl 
that  shamed  Zeba's  efforts. 


FISHING.  181 

"Going  to  try  t lie  South  SiiikIs,"  answered  his  father;  "always 
had  luck  there.  Give  us  the  boat-hook,  blackie.  So!  Hold  on, 
Tom,  till  I  <jot  aboard.  Wind  souVast.  We  will  pole  throM;:;h  this 
channel,  mate,  and  up  sail  when  clear  of  the  sands.  Up  anchor! 
By-bye,  Tom !" 

As  the  boat  glided  away  from  the  rock,  Zeba  caught  a  glimpse  of 
tlie  face  at  the  window  through  a  rift  in  the  curtiiin.  He  threw 
back  the  cloak  from  iiis  shoulder  and  tapped  the  hilt  of  his  weapon, 
and  the  face  disajipeared.  The  bulky  body  of  the  ex-mate  Avas  be- 
tween Zeba  and  his  son,  and  this  bit  of  pantomime  was  invisible  to 
both  of  them. 

"  Not  many  men  would  venture  through  this  channel,"  said  Mr. 
Jones,  as  he  poled  the  boat  along ;  "  but  it  is  safe  enough  at  high 
water.  All  these  bits  of  rock  are  old  landmarks  for  me.  I've 
known — that  is — I've  heard  of  smugglers  running  their  kegs  through 
this  channel,  when  the  coast-guard  boats  were  rocking  on  the  sea 
beyond  the  big  ledge  yonder.  That  was  before  the  light-house  was 
built.  They  call  this  '  Brandy  Channel,'  because  so  many  kegs  have 
gone  through  it.  Out  there  by  the  double  rocks — they're  called  The 
Twins — there  was  a  big  ship  wrecked,  twenty  years  ago.  She  was 
a  West  Injy  liner  bound  for  Bristol,  and  got  blowed  up  here  on  the 
sands.  All  hands  lost.  It  was  a  big  storm.  Some  of  us  got  a 
cask  or  two  of  rum  when  she  broke  up.  That  was  the  first  time  I 
learnt  what  real  Jamaiky  was!  And  your  gov'uor  sent  me  some 
prime  stuff'  from  Taunton  t'other  day  !  Keep  to  starboard  now,  till 
you  are  clear  of  white  water.  Once  get  The  Twins  fairly  astern  and 
we  will  get  the  sail  up.  S'pose  you  put  that  oar  out  on  the  port 
bow?     Can  you  pull  with  one  arm?" 

Zeba  answered  by  thrusting  the  oar  out  and  rowing  against  the 
larboard  stay. 

"  Aye,  aye  !"  said  ]\Ir.  Jones.  "  You  manoover  pretty  well !  I'll 
steer  against  you  a  minute  or  two  and  then  get  up  the  jib.  Don't 
you  see  the  line  of  deep  water  in  our  wake?  In  two  hours  it  will 
be  all  breakers.  That  is  the  reason  we — I  mean  the  smugglers — 
could  run  in  a  cargo  under  the  noses  of  the  coast-guard.  They  did 
not  think  of  looking  in  Linton  Sands,  where  a  dozen  boats  could 
ride  safely  in  good  weather,  and  when  the  tide  was  young  ebb  they 
could  slip  through  Brandy  Channel  and  make  shoal  water  on  the 
coast.  Now  come  aft  and  take  the  tiller,  and  we  will  get  up  some 
canvas." 

The  "  Hippie"  had  to  tack  once  and  again  before  she  could  get  a 


182  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"straight  slant"  for  harbour,  and  it  was  high  noon  when  Mr.  Jones 
made  fast  at  the  dock  in  Milford.  There  were  sundry  casks  and 
bales  on  the  pier,  and  Zeba's  watchful  eye  caught  sight  of  the  red- 
eyed  man,  who  was  peering  at  them  from  behind  a  pile  of  bales. 
He  announced  his  discovery  to  the  ex-mate,  writing  on  his  slate : 

"  Red-eye  peep  from  water-side." 

Mr.  Jones  carried  the  product  of  his  morning's  sport,  which 
consisted  of  two  soles.  He  walked  soberly  away  from  the  dock, 
meditatins;.  AVhen  he  turned  the  corner  he  growled  out  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

"Lubber  hove  in  sight?" 

Zeba  fflanced  backward.  The  coast  was  clear.  Another  turn 
brought  them  to  Mr.  Jones's  residence,  and  they  entered  unseen. 

"Now,  then  !"  said  the  host,  hanging  his  yellow  coat  and  hat  on 
pegs  behind  the  door ;  "  some  deviltry  is  afoot,  blackie  ?  What's 
to  be  done  ?" 

Zeba  took  the  pencil  and  wrote  : 

"  Red-eye  watch  us.     I  go  watch  red-eye." 

"Good  !"  ejaculated  Mr.  Jones.  "I'll  cook  the  fish.  If  you  can 
worrit  the  lubber,  all  right.  If  you  can  make  excuse,  punch  his 
head.     Blast  his  eyes  !" 

Zeba  adjusted  his  cloak,  and,  after  a  cautious  scrutiny  of  the  street, 
left  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Mr.  Jones,  who  was  already  preparing 
the  fish  for  the  frying-pan.  The  Hindoo  went  quickly  back  to  the 
dock,  walked  around  and  among  the  packages  of  merchandise,  but 
the  watcher  had  disappeared.  He  walked  up  the  pier,  and  reaching 
the  landing-place  of  a  steamer,  saw  the  object  of  his  search  on  board 
the  vessel,  intently  studying  a  paper  which  he  held  close  to  his 
purblind  eyes. 

"  Where  ship  go  ?"  said  the  Indian,  addressing  a  sailor,  who  was 
tugging  at  the  gang-plank. 

"  Bristol,"  was  the  reply ;  "  get  aboard  if  you're  going.  Cast 
hoff!" 

And  one  minute  later  Zeba  was  steaming  down  the  harbour. 
He  obtained  a  second-class  ticket,  and  finding  a  sunny  spot  in 
the  fore-castle,  coiled  himself  up  behind  the  windla&s  and  went  to 
sleep. 

He  was  shaken  up  once  by  the  official  who  was  collecting  fares 
and  tickets,  but  like  a  true  philosopher  went  to  sleep  again  imme- 
diately. He  had  no  definite  plan,  but  the  tulwar  had  indicated  this 
exact  direction  in  his  morning  incantations,  and  he  was  content  to 


AT  BATH. 


183 


pursue  it.  On  the  va^sol  nothing  oouUl  be  done,  so  he  slept  on 
until  he  was  wakened  by  the  stopping  of  the  nuiclunery. 

''What  town?"  he  asked.  .,      ,     ,     ,  .  i    . 

"  Cuntbrd,  stoopid !"  answered  the  same  sailor  he  had  accosted  at 
stiirtin'^-  "  You  don't  seem  to  know  where  you  are  going.  Forriner, 
belike"  Aye,  aye!  Well,  this  is  six  miles  from  Clifton.  We  wait 
liere  an  hour  for  the  tide.  If  you  choose  you  can  take  the  rail  here, 
and  you  will  beat  us  into  Bristol  about  two  hours.     There  goes  a 

cove  ashore  now."  .        ... 

It  was  the  red-eyed  man.  Zeba  followed,  keeping  him  in  view, 
until  he  disapp&ired  in  a  second-class  railway  carriage.  The  Hindoo 
bovight  a  third-cia-ss  ticket  for  Cliftou,  and  took  his  seat  in  the  same 

*'  Meantime,  Mr.  Jones  fried  the  soles.  Zeba  did  not  return,  so  the 
mariner  ate  them  both.  And  as  the  day  waned  and  the  Indian  still 
tarried,  Mr.  Jones  sought  consolation  in  the  demijohn  of  "  first-class 
rum  from  Taunton." 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 
At  Bath. 

THIS  veracious  history  began  by  recounting  in  the  initial  chapter 
certain  adventures  of  a  strolling  photographer,  who  had  taken 
a  picture,  witnessed  an  abduction,  and  then  suddenly  retired  from 
the  scene  with  no  satisfactory  explanation.  He  obtained  a  cab,  was 
driven  to  Bristol,  and  taking  the  train  there,  arrived  in  Bath  quite 
early  in  the  evening. 

He  pulled  his  felt  hat  down  upon  his  brows,  and  stood  a  moment 
at  the  station  watching  the  pas.sengers.  One  of  them  is  a  lady 
wearincr  a  straw  hat  adorned  with  a  scarlet  flower  on  one  side.  A 
gentleman  meets  her,  and  greets  her  with  eager  questions.  The 
photographer  is  near  enough  to  hear  her  murmur  in  musical  accents: 
"  All  successful.     How  came  you  here  ?" 

Then  they  pass  out  of  the  station,  and  he  follows.  Down  George 
street  to  the  corner.  The  lady  enters  the  corner  house.  The  gen- 
tleman goes  hastily  back  to  the  station.  So  the  picture-maker  follows 
him  and  sees  him  enter  an  up-train,  after  getting  a  ticket  lor  Bristol. 
Presently  the  train  moves  out,  and  the  photographer  runs  against  an 
unoffending  citizen,  because  his  head  is  turned  towards  the  departing 


184  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

train,  while  his  feet  are  walking  the  other  way.  He  apologises 
promptly. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Robinson  !"  said  the  citizen. 

"  Mr.  Holly !" 

"De-lighted  to  see  you  again,  sir  !  This  is  prime  luck  !  I  know 
you'll  be  kind  and  come  with  me.    Nanny  is  just  dying  to  see  you." 

"  Really,  Mr.  Holly,  I " 

"  Now  don't  say  another  word,  sir.  It's  only  a  step,  and  I  won't 
detain  you  a  minute.  We've  talked  about  nothing  else  but  you,  sir, 
since  I  got  home  last  night.  I  s'pose  you  haven't  taken  that  picture 
yet " 

"  By  this  light  I  have,  though  !"  said  the  other,  startled.  "  Do 
you  know  I  had  entirely  forgotten  your  warning  until  this  moment? 
And  I  have  the  picture  in  my  pocket.  Come,  I  will  go  with  you 
and  show  it.  I  took  two  or  three  more  from  the  same  negative,  and 
have  left  them  at  Clifton.  Tommy  took  me  directly  to  Mrs.  Noils's, 
and  he  is  there  now.     Is  this  your  house  ?" 

A  comely  young  woman,  with  a  wholesome  English  face,  opened 
the  door,  and  Mr.  Holly  kissed  her  without  asking  leave. 

"This  is  him,  Nanny,"  he  said,  ungrammatically;  "stumbled 
against  him  at  the  station,  and  he  Avas  good  enough  to  come  with  me. 
Mr.  Robinson,  Nan ;  my  wife,  sir.  Come  in,  sir.  Take  this  chair. 
Tommy  is  all  right.  Nan.    He  has  got  the  best  master  in  England." 

"  I  said  to  Tim  to-day,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Holly,  shaking  ]Mr.  Rob- 
inson's oifered  hand  warmly,  "  that  I  never  could  leave  England 
without  seeing  you,  and  thanking  you.  But  I  did  not  think  I  should 
have  the  pleasure  so  soon.     How  kind  of  you,  sir  !" 

"  Pure  selfishness,  Mrs.  Holly,"  answered  the  other,  "  if  you  refer 
to  my  purchase  of  Mr.  Holly's  outfit.  It  was  exactly  what  I  wanted. 
I  have  to  roam  about  England  in  odd  nooks  and  corners,  and  could 
not  do  it  more  pleasantly  than  with  Tommy's  aid.  Do  you  think 
your  husband  made  a  good  bargain  ?  Well,  I  would  not  sell  Tommy 
alone  for  fifty  pounds.  In  fact,  I  shall  never  sell  him.  Here  is  the 
picture,  Mr.  Holly." 

The  ex-artist  got  a  magnify ing-glass,  and,  drawing  the  lamp  to  his 
side  of  the  table,  examined  the  picture  with  absorbed  interest. 

"  You  will  not  drive  about  the  country  long,  sir?"  observed  Mrs. 
Holly.  "Anybody  can  see  you  are  not  accustomed  to  that  sort  of 
work." 

"  Why  not  ?"  said  the  visitor,  amused. 

"  Because  you  are  a  gentleman." 


AT  BATH.  185 

"  And  he  lias  taken  the  picture  of  a  hidy  !"  broke  in  her  husband. 
"  A  real,  no-niistake  hidy.  Witli  the  Observatory  background,  Nan. 
Lovely !  lovely !" 

"You  excite  my  curiosity,  Mr.  Holly,"  said  Mr.  Robinson. 
"  Allow  me  to  look  at  the  picture.  I  have  not  had  a  good  view  of 
it  since  it  was  finished." 

He  took  the  glass,  and  drawing  the  lamp  nearer,  studied  the  pic- 
ture with  critical  scrutiny.  "  Three-quarter  face,"  he  said  ;  "  the 
background  is  perfect.  You  can  see  the  stones  in  the  Observatory, 
and  the  branches  on  the  trees  beyond.  The  hat  is  well  taken,  and 
the  curls  below  the  rim.     The  eyes " 

He  ceased  his  audible  comments,  but  continued,  mentally  : 

"  The  eyes  !  What  glorious  eyes !  They  are  not  eyes,  they  are 
stars !  What  a  paragon  of  loveliness  is  this  !  I  remember  noting 
her  grey  eyes.  They  look  darker,  but  the  same  expression  is  here. 
By  this  light !  I  seem  to  see  the  girl  again  in  bodily  presence.  How 
could  I  be  so  dull  when  near  her?  She  seemed  a  mere  child  there, 
and  here,  she  is  a  matured  woman.  Fearless  and  true,  if  eyes  ever 
tell  the  truth.  Surely  I  have  never  seen  her  before  to-day,  yet  those 
eyes  seem  to  awaken  a  thousand  memories !  If  I  ever  saw  that  face 
before,  could  I  possibly  forget  it?  Positively,  there  is  an  air  of 
queenly  dignity  in  the  face!  The  mouth  and  chin  are  entirely  fault- 
less, and  the  poise  of  the  head  is  simply  magnificent.  If  I  were  ten 
years  younger,  I  could  fall  madly  in  love  with  such  a  face  as  this !" 

"  Mr.  Holly,"  he  said,  aloud,  "  I  took  this  picture  by  accident.  I 
had  the  Observatory  in  focus,  and  the  lady  just  stepped  in  and  got 
taken." 

"  Exactly  !"  replied  Mr.  Holly. 

"  Well,  I  never  saw  this  lady — that  is — I  think  I  never  saw  her. 
It  may  be  that  I  knew  her  when  a  child,  because  she  seems  to  remind 
me  of  some  one.     And  I  shall  never  see  her  again " 

"  Ho,  ho !"  said  Mr.  Holly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?"  said  his  guest,  nettled.  "  Do  you 
doubt  my  word  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  sir  !  Excuse  me.  But  you  are  bound  to  see  her  again  ! 
I  only  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  a  hundred  pound." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  promise  you  a  hundred  pounds,  to  be  paid 
when  I  see  the  original  of  this  picture." 

"I'll  let  you  off  easier!"  replied  Mr.  Holly.  "I'll  be  satisfied 
with  the  hundred  pounds  when  you  marry  her !  For  you  are  bound 
to  marry  her,  you  know  !" 


186  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Indeed  I  don't  know.  Come !  I  bet  you  a  hundred  pounds 
against  a  shilling  that  I  don't  marry  her." 

"  Done  away  with  you,  sir  !  Hooray,  Nan  !  We're  a  hundred 
pound  richer,  or  my  name's  not  Tim  Holly  !  Why,  Mr.  Robinson, 
if  you  didn't  marry  this  lady,  with  the  Observatory  in  the  back- 
ground, it  would  be  flyin'  in  the  face  of  Providence  !  Do  you  re- 
member what  I  told  you  about  old  Morrow's  saying?  The  man 
who  carries  the  picture  of  a  woman,  with  Clifton  Observatory  in 
the  background,  is  a  gone  goose !  Excuse  me,  sir !  That's  what 
Morrow  always  said.  And  I'll  swear  it  always  came  true  as  far  as 
I  know !" 

"  Is  there  no  way  of  escape  for  me  ?"  said  the  other,  derisively, 
even  while  he  felt  his  heart  beating  rather  faster  than  usual. 

"Oh,  yes,  sir!"  replied  Holly.  "Sell  the  picture — destroy  the 
other  copies  and  break  the  negative." 

"  Will  it  answer  as  well  if  I  destroy  all  the  pictures  ?  I  am  not 
likely  to  find  a  purchaser,  you  know." 

"  Just  as  well,  sir."  And  after  a  moment's  pause,  he  continued, 
suddenly,  "  Excuse  me,  sir !  Will  you  take  five  pounds  for  this 
picture,  and  promise  to  destroy  the  rest  and  the  negative  ?" 

"  Ha !"  said  the  other,  the  blood  rushing  to  his  honest  face.  "  I 
understand  you,  my  friend.  You  would  not  give  five  shillings  for 
the  picture." 

"  I  am  certain  you  would  not  sell  it  for  a  hundred  pounds !"  said 
Holly. 

"  This  is  too  absurd !"  said  Mr.  Robinson,  in  hot  indignation. 
"  Look  you  !  I  am  not  in  immediate  want  of  money,  and  therefore  I 
should  not  sell  the  picture  at  all.  It  is  a  curiosity.  It  has  no 
intrinsic  value.     It " 

"  It  is  a  capital  likeness  of  Mrs.  Robinson  as  is  to  be !"  retorted 
Holly.  "  And  you  are  not  apt  to  sell  your  wife's  picture  promis- 
cuous !" 

"  Suppose  the  lady  should  happen  to  be  married  ?"  said  the  other, 
desperately. 

"  You  would  just  have  to  wait  for  t'other  fellow  to  die,  and  give 
her  a  year  for  mourning,"  was  the  cool  rejoinder. 

"You  are  incorrigible  !"  said  Mr.  Robinson,  after  a  burst  of  un- 
controllable mirth.     "  I  must  leave  you  now." 

"  Wait  a  minute,  sir,  please.  Nan  is  making  a  cup  of  tea.  You 
will  do  us  the  honour  to  take  a  cup  of  tea  ?  Besides,  I  have  some- 
thing to  show  you." 


AT  BATIf.  187 

While  his  wife  spread  a  Aiowy  cloth  on  the  table,  and  arranged 
cups  and  sancers,  Mr.  Holly  rnniraaged  in  a  bureau  drawer,  and 
came  presently  with  a  handful  of  jjliotographs. 

"  Tiiese  are  some  of  old  Morrow's  duplicates,"  he  said,  as  he  looked 
through  them ;  "  and  I  saw  one  yesterday  which  I'd  like  you  to  see. 
Ah,  here  it  is !     Look  through  the  glaas  again,  sir." 

The  Observatory  again,  No  mistake  about  that.  And  a  lady 
looking  out  of  the  picture  directly  at  you.  Totally  unlike  in  dreas, 
expression,  attitude,  yet  startlingly  like!  Was  there  some  devilish 
enchantment  about  this  Observatory?  Or  was  the  last  photographer 
going  mad  ?  He  laid  the  two  pictures  side  by  side  on  the  table,  and 
studied  them  with  absorbed  attention.  The  old  one,  somewhat  faded 
and  blurred,  was  still  highly  attractive.  Certain  faults  in  the  exe- 
cution, which  later  jihotographic  art  had  removed,  did  not  destroy 
the  accuracy  of  the  likeness,  and  it  was  the  likeness  of  a  woman  of 
great  beauty.  The  new  one,  all  fresh  and  perfect  as  it  was,  owed  its 
excellence  to  the  singular  sweetness  of  exprassion  in  the  countenance, 
and  the  brave  eyes  which  were  so  brave  because  the  heart  was  so 
guileless.  The  old  one  had  an  expression  of  hard  common  sense 
and  unflinching  firmness.  The  new  one  had  an  indescribable  air  of 
romance  mingling  with  its  utter  perfect  truthfulness, 

"  How  old  is  this  picture,  Mr.  Holly  ?"  asked  Mr.  Robinson,  at 
last. 

"  Twenty-five  year,  sir," 

"  What !     Do  you  know  the  exact  age?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir !  The  date  is  on  the  back.  But  I'd  know  that 
picture,  anyway." 

"  Do  you  know  the  lady  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir!  Take  a  cup  of  tea,  sir.  Sugar?  Yes,  Nan. 
These  are  some  of  Nan's  muffins,  sir.  When  we  get  out  in  the 
Bush  we'll  astonish  them  heathens  with  Nan's  muffins." 

\y\\Qn  Mrs.  Holly  removed  the  cloth  the  visitor  prepared  for  his 
departure.  He  indulged  in  another  long  look  at  the  old  photograph, 
and  fancied  he  detected  more  and  more  points  of  resemblance  to  his 
own. 

"  You  did  not  tell  me  the  name  of  this  lady,"  he  said. 

"  I  told  you  about  that  picture  yesterday.     That  is  Miss  An  not." 

"  Miss  Annot  ?  Ha  !  I  remember !  This  is  Colonel  Mordaunt's 
sister,  who  was  married  to  Mr.  Dale  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Can  I  purchase  this  from  you,  Mr.  Holly  ?" 


188  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  No,  sir  !  It  is  not  for  sale.  But  I'lf  give  it  with  all  the  pleasure 
in  life.  It  belongs  to  you  by  rights,  anyway.  You  bought  my  kit, 
and  all  these  pictures  belong  to  it.  Take  it  and  welcome,  sir.  Good 
night,  and  good-bye,  sir !  We  shall  be  on  the  sea  in  two  days. 
Don't  forget  that  hundred-pound  bet.  I'm  sure  of  it,  sooner  or  later. 
Let  me  put  some  tissue-paper  around  the  pictures.  There  is  a  like- 
ness between  them,  by  jingo!  It  is  all  in  the  way  they  hold  their 
heads !  Don't  you  see  ?  They  seem  to  own  everything  they  look 
at!" 

Mr.  Robinson  walked  down  the  street  under  the  mellow  light  of 
the  moon.  Arriving  at  the  corner,  where  the  lady  of  the  scarlet 
flower  had  entered,  he  knocked,  and  was  speedily  admitted. 

"  If  Miss  Carey  is  disengaged,"  he  said,  giving  a  card  to  the  ser- 
vant, "say  I  ask  for  a  few  minutes'  conversation." 

The  footman  glanced  at  the  dress  of  the  visitor.  They  observe 
the  proprieties  at  Bath.  Mr.  Robinson's  attire  was  faultless — for 
morning  promenades,  but  not  suitable  for  evening  visits.  Still,  the 
footman  ushered  him  into  the  drawing-room  with  sober  politeness. 

"Some  beggin'  gent,"  muttered  the  servant,  as  he  retired,  "or, 
mayhap,  a  literary  gent,  wot  don't  care  for  looks.  His  clothes  is 
clean,  anyway.     Miss  Carey  can  say  not  at  home  if  it  ain't  all  right." 

But  Miss  Carey  was  at  home.  She  sent  the  footman  back  on  the 
instant. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Rayneford  I  will  be  down  immediately." 

"  Rayneford  I"  said  her  companion,  starting  to  his  feet.  "  Hy- 
land  !  Stop,  Blain,  I  will  go  down."  And  he  skipped  down,  two 
steps  at  a  time. 

"  Hyland,  my  dear  fellow,  welcome  !" 

"  Glendare !     This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure !" 

"  I  should  not  have  known  you,  Hyland,"  said  Glendare,  "  bearded 
like  the  pard,  and  looking  so  robust.  My  last  sight  of  you  was 
when  you  crawled  out  of  your  bungalow,  gaunt  and  feeble.  You 
came  by  the  '  Bengal'  ?  And  Zeba  also.  Where  have  you  been  ? 
Where  are  you  going  ?  To  Scotland  with  me  ?  Why,  man,  I  am 
a  landed  proprietor.     Laird  of  Glendare,  with  an  actual  rent-roll !" 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Hamish,"  replied  Hyland.  "  I  was  wishing 
for  you  when  you  burst  in  at  the  door.     Are  you  living  here?" 

"No.  I  called  to  see  Mildred.  I  am  at  the  George  Hotel. 
What  do  you  want  ?     How  can  I  serve  you  ?" 

"  Let  me  answer  when  I  have  seen  Miss  Carey.  I  hardly  know 
yet  what  I  want.     I — ah,  here  she  comes !" 


THE  PICTURE.  189 

^lildred  entered  with  stately  grace.  A  little  more  colour  in 
her  cheek  than  usual,  but  otherwise  unchanged.  She  welcomed  her 
visitor  with  genuine  pleasure,  and  seated  herself  by  his  side. 

**  I  heard  you  had  called,"  she  said.  "Mr.  Brentam  told  me. 
We  tiiought  we  should  meet  you  in  London.  But  you  only  re- 
mained one  day.  Mr.  Plimpton  saw  uncle  on  Monday.  No  tidings 
of  your  brother?" 

"  None,"  answered  Hyland,  looking  with  great  curiosity  into  her 
placid  eyes.  "  1  thought  you  might  give  me  some  hint,  perhaps, 
that  would  aid  me." 

"  Alius,  no  !"  she  replied,  with  a  deeper  tint  in  her  cheek.  "  My 
lord  gave  me  no  clue  to  his  intentions.  Where  are  you  going, 
Hamish?" 

"To  the  hotel.  Good-bye.  Hyland,  you  will  come,  presently? 
I  have  a  letter  to  write,  which  will  occupy  me  half  an  hour." 

"  I  will  be  with  you  when  you  affix  your  signature,"  said  Hyland. 

AVhen  Glendare  departed,  Hyland  walked  across  the  room  once 
and  again,  Mildred  watching  him  in  silent  wonder.  At  last  he 
drew  up  a  chair  and  sat  opposite,  regarding  her  with  a  troubled 
expression  of  countenance. 

"  We  were  children  together,  Mildred,"  he  began. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  startled  by  the  sound  of  her  name  on  his  lips. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you.  And  I  do  not  know  how  to 
begin.  I  am  in  great  distress.  I  saw  you  to-day  ou  Clifton 
Downs." 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

The  Picture. 

TTYLAND  found  Mr.  Glendare  waiting  for  him  an  hour  later, 
-' — ■-  at  the  George  Hotel.  The  night  was  fine,  the  moon  nearly 
full,  and  they  took  their  chairs  out  on  the  balcony  of  the  billiard- 
room,  where  smoking  was  lawful  and  conversation  easy. 

"First  of  all,"  said  Hyland,  "tell  me  about  your  voyage.  Where 
is  the  colonel?     Where  are  the  ladies?" 

"The  colonel  is  here,  in  Bath.  Miss  Juliet  also.  Dr.  Leigh  and 
Haidee  went  to  Clifton  to-day.  The  others  will  follow  to-morrow. 
AVhere  have  you  been  ?" 

"I  came  from  Clifton  this  evening,"  answered  Hyland. 


190  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  All !     Then  you  saw  Haidee  ?" 

"  No." 

"  But  you  would  not  know  the  child,"  continued  Glendare ;  "  it  is 
another  Haidee.  Imagine  a  robust  young  woman,  steeped  to  the 
lips  in  romance,  yet  full  of  excellent  sense.  A  reader  of  heavy 
philosophy ;  learned  in  no  end  of  Hindoo  lore ;  able  to  translate 
with  amazing  accuracy  their  misty  dreams  into  sober  English. 
Instead  of  crawling  about  with  muffled  cheeks  and  dreading  each 
zephyr,  facing  a  marine  storm  with  eager  delight  when  stout-hearted 
men  were  filled  with  dread.  Instead  of  the  pale  and  fragile  slip  of 
a  girl,  imagine  a  pretty — nay,  the  prettiest  woman  you  ever  saw. 
That  letter  of  yours  about  your  favourite  drug  did  the  business." 

"  But  you  wrote  me  she  would  none  of  my  drugs." 

"  Exactly !  That  is,  Leigh  pooh-poohed  your  remedies,  and 
hunted  up  some  more  powerful  agent,  and  cured  her.  She  has  had 
no  neuralgia  since,  except  some  slight  spasms,  which  she  cures 
without  difficulty." 

"  And  her  sister?"  said  Hyland.  " I  left  Frank  devoted  to  Miss 
Juliet." 

"  Yes.     He  remained  constant  until  we  left  the  Cape." 

"  And  then  ?" 

"  And  then  his  affections  waned,"  said  Mr.  Glendare.  "  Or  rather, 
he  transferred  them  to  the  younger,  and  no  wonder !" 

"The  wretch  !"  said  Hyland,  laughing;  "he  had  expressly  stipu- 
lated that  I  should  court  Miss  Haidee,  and  leave  him  a  clear 
field." 

"  But  you  did  not." 

"No.  I  am  under  very  peculiar  entanglements.  Fate  has  bound 
me  for  life  to  one  young  woman  whom  I  have  never  seen,  except 
for  a  brief  instant.  And  I  am  trying  to  perfect  a  plan  to  deliver 
another  young  woman,  whom  I  have  never  seen  at  all — yes  !  I  did 
see  her  boot !     And  there  is  a  third  young  woman " 

"  Well  ?"  said  Glendare. 

"  We  will  say  nothing  about  the  third,"  said  Hyland,  cautiously, 
"especially  as  two  are  more  than  enough.  Hamish,  my  friend, 
answer  me  candidly  !  Have  you  ever  detected  in  me  any  tendency 
to — insanity  ?" 

"  What  rubbish  !     Certainly  not!"  said  Glendare,  indignant. 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  Hyland,  earnestly,  "  have  you  ever  seen 
a  disposition  towards  the  supernatural :  a  readiness  to  swallow  super- 
stitious theories  ?" 


THE  PICTURE.  191 

"  I  have  seen  in  yon,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  with  crisp  exactness, 
"  a  profound  belief  in  any  delusion  of  the  devil  that  came  to  you 
in  either  of  two  forms.  First,  any  metaphysical  absurdity  that  was 
endorsed  by  some  High  Dutch  authority,  provided  the  sum  of  his 
philosophy  was  the  annihilation  of  Deity.  Second,  any  form  of 
pantheistic  materialism  that  has  been  plucked  up  by  the  roots  and 
killed  two  or  three  tliousand  years,  lieyond  these,  I  have  never 
found  in  you  a  tendency  to  believe  anything." 

"  Thank  you  !"  said  Hyland,  much  relieved.  "Now,  then,  hear 
my  confession  !  All  the  way  from  Calcutta  to  England  I  was 
under  a  devilish  spell  !  Zeba,  who  came  with  me,  performed  a  lot 
of  absurd  antics,  under  solemn  forms,  every  week.  And  when  his 
manipulations  were  over,  he  would  come  to  me  with  grave  politeness 
and  announce  that  '  Sahib's  brother  was  well,  and  was  over  there,' 
alwavs  pointing  westwardly." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  absurd  antics?"  said  Glendare,  much 
interested. 

"  He  began  by  sweeping  his  tulwar  about  his  head  like  a  stream 
of  light,  then  threw  it  whirling  in  the  air,  catching  it  always  by  the 
hilt  ts  it  fell,  then  suspended  it  by  the  main  rigging,  and  watched 
its  gyrations  until  it  became  stationary.  Then  he  got  the  exact  di- 
rection by  the  compass  and  noted  the  result.  After  we  rounded  the 
Cape,  he  would  bring  me  the  responses  he  obtained  from  his  oracle, 
and  they  varied  very  slightly  from  week  to  week.  As  we  came 
north  the  point  of  the  weapon  deflected  more  and  more,  and  his 
latest  revelation,  which  he  obtained  at  the  mouth  of  the  Channel, 
indicated  a  locality  considerably  south  of  west. 

"  I  had  some  books  with  me,  of  course.  I  read  Kant  and  Locke 
and  Leibnitz  every  day.  I  Avould  reach  the  sure  conclusion  that 
Zeba  and  his  incantations  had  not  the  poor  merit  of  being  devilish. 
They  were  simply  absurd.  And  then,  I  waited  with  feverish  impa- 
tience for  his  next  announcement,  hoping  it  would  contradict  the 
previous  record.  But  there  was  no  such  contradiction.  I^ook  you ! 
The  Hindoo  could  not  possibly  construct  a  string  with  the  precise 
twist  that  would  bring  the  sword  suspended  by  it  to  repose  with  its 
point  alwaxjs  to  the  west!  Once  I  asked  him  what  force  controlled 
the  weapon,  and  he  replied,  with  magnificent  confidence,  '  Saiiib  is 
Lord  of  the  tulwar.     Tulwar  mxist  serve  sahib !' 

"  When  we  landed  at  Plymouth  we  went  directly  to  Hawkley. 
His  mummery  was  re-enacted  on  the  lawn,  and  Zeba  marched  nearly 
due  west  in  search  of  Miles,  with  no  more  apparent  doubt  as  to  the 


192  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

direction  than  I  had  as  to  the  direction  of  London.  I  have  not  seen 
him  since. 

"  Confession  first :  Zeba's  atrocious  tomfoolery  has  bewitched  me 
to  such  an  extent  that  I  cannot  get  up  enough  steam  to  search  for 
Miles  in  any  other  direction  than  westward. 

"However,  I  bought  a  horse  and  conveyance,  intending  to  travel 
over  the  entire  island,  by  cross-roads  and  lanes,  any  way,  every  way, 
and  hunt  for  traces  of  Miles.  The  trap  I  purchased  is  a  photog- 
rapher's trap.  You  know  I  can  take  pictures.  When  I  parted 
from  the  seller  he  gave  me  a  word  of  caution.  '  If  you  take  a  view 
of  Clifton  Observatory,'  he  said,  'be  sure  there  is  no  woman  in  the 
picture !  Because,  if  you  take  such  a  picture,  and  keep  it,  that 
woman  will  own  you,  sooner  or  later !'  Did  you  ever  hear  Sbch 
rubbish  ? 

"  Of  course  not !  Very  well !  I  went  to  Clifton.  I  went  to  the 
Observatory.  I  arranged  my  apparatus,  and  just  as  I  was  ready  to 
take  the  Observatory  a  woman  stepped  in  between  it  and  the  camera, 
stood  stock  still,  and  was  taken  !  What  the  deuce  are  you  laughing 
at?     I  feel  more  like  weeping  or  swearing  ! 

"  Mark !  I  had  forgotten  that  foolish  caution.  It  had  gone 
clean  from  my  memor}^  until  an  hour  ago,  when  I  accidentally  met 
the  man  from  whom  I  bought  the  trap.  His  first  question  was  about 
the  picture.  I  declare  to  you,  Hamish,  I  felt  my  heart  bound  as 
his  warning  came  back  to  my  mind ;  and  now  that  I  am  recounting 
all  this  to  you  so  composedly,  I  am  labouring  under  strong  excite- 
ment. 

"I  know  very  well  all  you  are  going  to  say.  You  will  prate 
about  remarkable  coincidences.  You  will  quote  a  dozen  cases  where 
similar  unaccountable  events  occurred.  But  you  do  not  thereby 
deliver  me  from  the  appalling  weight  of  the  delusion !  It  fills  my 
mind ! 

"  I  hardly  know  whether  to  tell  you  any  more  or  not." 

"Go  on,  my  dear  Hyland,"  said  Glendare.  "I  am  enormously 
interested." 

"  Well,"  said  Hyland,  slowly,  "  I  happened  to  have  the  picture  in 
my  pocket,  and  Holly — that  is — my  ex-photographer,  produced  a 
magnifying-glass,  and  I  have  studied  the  picture  very  carefully. 
And  positively !  the  mere  picture  has  taken  such  possession  of  me, 
that  I  would  follow  blindly  to  the  gates  of  death  wherever  that  face 
might  lead  !  Feel  my  pulses  !  Try  me  on  some  complicated  prob- 
lem in  Euclid.     Ask  for  a  lucid  synopsis  of  the  Cartesian  philoso- 


THE  PICTURE.  103 

j)hy.  Put  me  to  any  test,  and  yon  will  find  me  sane.  And  yet  tliis 
bondage  is  so  real,  that  material  chains  on  my  limbs  would  not  bind 
me  more  effectually !" 

"  Let  us  discuss  the  points  separately,"  said  Glendare,  gently. 
"About  Zeba  first.     Do  you  doubt  the  Hindoo's  sincerity?" 

"  Xot  at  all." 

"  These  high-caste  Indians  are  peculiar  people.  They  are  deli- 
cately organi/x'd.  They  are  marvellously  acute  reasoners.  Yet  I 
have  found  several  mesmerisers  among  them,  and  I  am  bound  to 
admit  that  I  could  not  account  for  their  sublime  confidence  in  their 
occult  powers.  Now,  all  these  manipulations  of  the  tulwar  accord 
with  one  of  their  theories,  which  invests  steel  with  unusual  proper- 
ties. •  One  old  Brahmin  in  Calcutta,  who  is  an  accomplished  mag- 
netiser,  has  a  steel  baton  covered  with  curious  hieroglyph ies,  which 
he  habitually  uses  at  his  seances.  Remember  that  science  does  not 
say  much  about  magnetism.  It  does  not  know  much.  It  has  re- 
corded a  mass  of  phenomena,  but  it  makes  no  dogmatic  laws.  You 
can  place  me  on  a  stool  with  glass  feet,  and  charge  me  with  some- 
thing which  you  call  electricity.  Then,  if  I  put  my  finger  on  a 
third  person  he  feels  an  electric  shock.  Now  suppose  I  have  within 
my  organism  something  analogous  to  the  Voltaic  battery.  Suppose 
this  force  latent,  and  supjwse  I  discover  a  method  whereby  it  can  be 
vitalised  at  will.  In  such  a  case  you  do  not  need  the  isolated  stool 
or  the  mechanical  battery. 

"  I  believe  Zeba  magnetises  you,  Master  Hyland  ! 

"  Next,  about  the  picture.  Are  you  sure,  quite  sure  you  did  not 
remember  the  artist's  prediction  when  you  took  it?" 

"  Positively  sure  !"  answered  Hyland.  "  I  was  trying  to  get  the 
Observatory  into  focus.  The  girl  annoyed  me  by  darting  in  my 
way  once  and  again.  I  did  not  notice  her,  except  as  an  obstruction. 
At  last,  when  I  was  all  ready,  had  the  plate  in,  and  was  about  to 
remove  the  covering,  she  stepped  in  again,  and,  with  her  face  half 
turnal  to  me,  stood  still  as  a  rock.  It  was  a  momentary  impulse 
that  led  me  to  remove  the  velvet  and  allow  the  sun  to  take  her.  I 
expected  her  to  fidget  about  and  spoil  the  picture.  But  she  was  a 
statue.  I  saw  her  on  the  bridge  a  little  later,  and  then  for  the  first 
time  I  noticed  her  fine  eyes.  And  after  I  had  obtained  two  or  three 
proofs  in  the  afternoon  I  mounted  one,  only  because  time  hung 
heavy  on  my  hands  and  I  wanted  occupation.  And  I  did  not  look 
at  the  picture  until  Holly  accosted  me,  two  hours  ago,  here  in  Bath." 

"  What  brought  you  here?" 

13 


194  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Heh?     I — I  was  going — I  was  looking  for— 


"No  matter/'  said  Glendare.  "Pardon  me;  my  question  was 
indiscreet  and  not  pertinent  at  all.     May  I  see  the  picture?" 

"  Certainly  !  When  we  finish  our  cheroots  we  will  go  in  and  you 
shall  examine  it." 

"  Meanwhile,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  "  I  will  tell  you  a  bit  of  per- 
sonal history.  I  came  home  with  the  Mordaunts  because  Leigh  said 
the  summer  would  kill  me  if  I  remained.  I  was  very  eager  to  come. 
But  my  missionary  work  was  encouraging,  and  I  was  reluctant  to 
leave  it,  and  nothing  short  of  positive  orders  from  Leigh  would  have 
brought  me.  When  we  reached  London  I  took  the  first  train  for 
the  North,  and  was  iu  Glendare,  my  native  village,  the  next 
morning. 

"A  life-long  enemy  of  my  house,  the  hereditary  enemy  of  my 
clan,  was  owner  of  Glendare.  You  do  not  know  anything  of  High- 
land enmities !  However,  I  had  no  personal  enmity  towards  this 
old  solitary  man,  though  he  had  injured  me  to  the  extent  of  his 
power  in  my  youth.  He  was  dying,  Hyland,  and  the  local  minister, 
an  excellent  Presbyterian  gentleman,  was  in  Edinburgh.  The  old 
laird  heard  of  my  arrival  and  sent  for  me,  saying  he  was  dying.  I 
went  and  remained  until  he  breathed  his  last,  having  assured  him 
of  my  full  forgiveness  and  received  his  blessing.  I  attended  his 
funeral,  wearing  my  native  tartans  as  the  only  representative  of  the 
old  clan.  And  when  his  will  was  opened  I  found  myself' his  sole 
heir. 

"  Now  for  the  superstition.  A  week  before  I  landed  he  had  sent 
for  his  lawyer  and  executed  that  will.  He  had  an  old  servant, 
Strachan,  who  had  been  a  playmate  of  my  grandfather's,  and  Stra- 
chan  has  fits  of  second  sight.  And  in  one  of  his  recent  visions  he 
had  seen  Hamish  Glendare  somewhere  oiF  the  Canaries,  with  his 
face  towards  bonnie  Scotland.  Hence  the  will.  The  old  laird  was 
waiting  for  me  when  I  arrived." 

"  JSIr.  Glendare  ?"  said  a  servant,  stepping  out  upon  the  balcony. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Glendare." 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  a  telegraph.     Boy  waitin'  for  answer." 

Mr.  Glendare  threw  away  his  cigar  and  entered  the  billiard-room, 
followed  by  Hyland.  He  read  the  despatch,  handed  it  to  his  friend, 
while  he  wrote  a  reply.     Hyland  read  : 

"  From  Dr.  Leigh,  Clifton,  Bristol,  to  Hamish  Glendare,  George 
Hotel,  Bath.  Haidee  cannot  be  found.  Have  not  seen  her  since 
arrival.     Am  still  searching.     Tell  the  colonel.     She  may  have  met 


THE  PICTURE.  195 

some  acquaintance  here,  and  is  perhaps  in  sonic  private  house.     Am 
searching  systematically  through  the  town." 

"This  is  most  extraordinary,"  said  Glendare.  "They  were  at 
some  little  town  on  the  A\'elsh  border,  and  were  to  come  to  Clifton 
this  morning,  and  to  Bath  to-morrow." 

"Does  he  mean  Miss  Mordaunt?"  said  Hyland,  a  thousand 
tlioughts  rushing  through  liis  mind,  some  wise,  some  grotesque,  and 
all  maddening.     "Can  he  possibly  mean  Miss  Mordaunt?" 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"Come!"  said  Hyland,  impetuously.  "How  can  we  get  there? 
That  poor  child  !     Oh,  matchless  scoundrel !" 

"  There  is  no  train  to-night,"  said  Glendare,  astonished  at  Hy- 
land's  vehemence.     "  Where  are  you  going?" 

"  To  Clifton." 

"  What  can  you  do.  Ply  land  ?     What  do  you  know  ?" 

"  Everything !     Nothing  !     But  I  will  find  out,  and  find  her." 

"Sit  down  a  moment,"  said  Glendare,  "and  answer  me  a  few 
questions.  You  know  something  or  suspect  something.  Did  you 
see  or  hear  anything  to-day  at  Clifton  about  Haidee?" 

"  Nothing.  That  is,  I  am  not  certain.  But  delay  will  drive  me 
mad !     Let  us  go  to  the  station,  and  find  when  a  train  will  go." 

"  What  is  that  in  your  hand?"  said  Glendare,  still  detaining  him. 

"  Ah  !  this  is  the  Clifton  picture !  It  has  lost  its  influence  already ! 
Take  it,  and  come  away." 

Glendare  unwrapped  the  picture  and  held  it  up  to  the  gaslight. 
As  he  looked,  he  uttered  an  exclamation  of  wonder. 

"Whose  face  is  this,  Rayneford?"  he  said,  watching  Hyland's 
countenance  with  earnest  scrutiny. 

"  I  do  not  know  !     I  do  not  care  !     Come !" 

" One  minute.     Have  you  never  seen  this  woman?" 

"  Never,  except  for  one  short  minute.  Why  do  you  ask?  Why 
do  you  gaze  at  me  in  that  fashion  ?" 

"  Because  this  is  Haidee  Mordaunt,  beyond  the  possibility  of 
doubt!" 


196  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

SiSTA. 

SISTA,  Haidee's  ayah,  had  two  distinguishing  habits.  Tliese 
differentia  separated  her  from  European  ladies  of  an  uncertain 
age,  rather  than  from  her  own  countrywomen.  The  first  was  her 
custom  to  fall  asleep  upon  all  occasions.  She  was  more  somnolent 
than  the  fat  boy  immortalized  by  Dickens,  but  her  slumbers  were 
so  light  that  she  generally  knew  all.  that  was  proceeding  around  her. 
Her  second  specialty  was  a  habit  of  confiscating  any  sort  of  intoxi- 
cating liquid  that  came  within  reach  of  her  slender  fingers.  She 
was  omnibibulous.  Pale  ale,  sherry,  brandy,  or  gin  never  came 
amiss.  Everything  alcoholic  was  grist  to  her  mill.  In  India,  the 
Mordaunts,  who  knew  her  peculiarities,  locked  up  their  liquids  much 
more  diligently  than  their  plate.  Sista  was  unswervingly  honest 
about  all  other  descriptions  of  property,  but  the  appropriation  of 
loose  drinks  was  to  her  an  act  without  a  moral  quality.  She  had 
been  nurse  to  Haidee  from  the  infancy  of  the  latter,  had  taught  her 
two  or  three  dialects  of  Hindoostanee,  including  the  Pracrit.  The 
use  "  Beebe"  made  of  her  lingual  accomplishments  was  to  scold  Sista 
in  various  dialects  whenever  she  violated  her  temperance  pledges, 
which  was  about  three  times  a  week.  The  old  woman  sustained 
such  a  relation  to  her  charge  that  she  was  dominant  as  nurse  and 
submissive  as  servant.  When  neuralgia  dulled  Beebe's  acute  facul- 
ties, Sista  got  drunk. 

On  the  yoyage  from  Calcutta  the  ayah  had  few  opportunities. 
Her  young  mistress  was  in  excellent  health,  and  provided  one  bottle 
of  pale  ale  per  diem  for  Sista.  This  quantity,  albeit  received  with 
profuse  outward  gratitude,  was  always  imbibed  by  Sista  with  an 
inward  sniff  of  disdain.  It  was  equal  to  a  quart  of  Avater  poured 
upon  a  sand-heap  occupying  a  cubic  yard  of  space. 

No  one  knew  by  what  subtle  processes  Sista  obtained  her  drinks. 
She  waited  upon  Haidee  at  meal-time,  and  utilized  all  the  dregs  of 
beer,  brandy,  or  wine  in  any  of  the  glasses  on  the  table.  She  had  a 
remarkably  happy  faculty  of  slipping  a  half-emptied  tumbler  from 
the  side  of  any  unobservant  diner,  tossing  the  contents  into  her 
stomach,  and  deftly  substituting  a  clean  glass.  If  "  Beebe"  turned 
her  reproachful  eyes  towards  her  ayah  on  such  occasions,  the  latter 
incontinently  fell  into  innocent  slumber. 

One  day,  after  leaving  the  Cape,  Daltman  found  a  shady  spot  to 


SISTA.  197 

windward  of  the  fumiel.  He  was  seated  on  a  coil  of  ropo,  regaling 
upon  hardtack  and  boer,  an  honr  at"ter  regular  luncheon-time,  Sista 
was  nciir  him,  waiting  to  remove  his  plate  and  glass.  As  he  caught 
lier  wistful  glance,  he  beckoned  her  to  him. 

"Here,  Sista,"  he  said,  pouring  the  remains  of  his  bottle  into  the 
tumbler  ;  "  toss  it  otf,  old  woman.     I  have  had  enough." 

"  Ram,  ram,  saiiib !"  said  Sista,  obeying  on  the  instant. 

"  I  say,  Sista,"  said  Daltman,  cautiously,  "  how  long  have  you 
been  in  the  colonel's  service?" 

"  When  Madame  Sahib  die  I  take  Beebe." 

"  You  mean  Miss  Haidee?"  said  Daltman,  eagerly.    Sista  nodded. 

*'  Where  was  that,  Sista ?     In  Calcutta?" 

"  No,  sahib.     In  Puujaub." 

"Did  Mrs.  Mordaunt  die  there?" 

"Yes,  sahib;  when  Beebe  born." 

"  And  Miss  Haidee  was  her  only  child  ?"  said  Daltman,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  sahib.  Did  not  know  Colonel  Sahib.  Zeba  bring  me  and 
Be6be  many  days  through  jungle.  Zeba  no  sleep.  When  get  to 
Lucknow,  find  Colonel  Sahib.  Hab  Beebe  Juliet.  Much  fight  in 
Luck  now.     Much  fight  Lahore." 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Daltman,  watching  the  sharp  black  eyes 
of  his  interlocutor,  "that  Colonel  Mordaunt  adopted  Miss  Juliet, 
the  daughter  of  a  brother  officer,  who  was  killed  during  the  mutiny." 

"  Yes,  sahib,"  answered  Sista ;  "  brudder  hab  Beebe  too.  Brudder 
get  kill  in  fight.     Colonel  Sahib  make  Beebe  same  as  other  Beebe." 

"  You   mean    Miss  Juliet  ?"  said    Daltman,  somewhat  confused 
by  tlie  defective  English. 
'"Yes,  sahib." 

"  That  is — Miss  Haidee  is  the  colonel's  real  daughter?" 

"  Yes,  sahib." 

Daltman  allowed  the  nurse  to  depart.  Here  was  a  piece  of  valua- 
ble information.  He  knew  of  a  certain  estate  in  England,  some- 
what dilapidated  now,  but  of  great  value  doubtless.  Mr.  Brentam 
had  tokl  him  about  it.  The  colonel  was  the  last  of  the  Mordaunts, 
and  Castledane  would  certainly  be  inherited  by  Haidee.  He  had 
neglected  the  child  too  much  hitherto.  He  would  be  more  attentive 
henceforth.  He  had  asked  Glendare  and  Dr.  Leigh  the  same  ques- 
tions, but  neither  of  them  could  furnish  the  required  information. 
He  had  it  now  from  the  best  source,  and  he  would  keep  his  knowl- 
edge to  himself.  He  was  not  impecunious,  by  any  means,  but  he 
had  a  hankering  after  Castledane.      "Frank  Daltman  of  Castle- 


198  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

dane"  was  far  better  than  plain  Frank  Daltman.  He  would  cer- 
tainly cultivate  Haidee. 

There  she  sat  under  a  strip  of  awning  with  her  everlasting  book. 
Juliet  was  walking  with  Dr.  Leigh.  Frank  had  always  been  rather 
patronising  in  his  intercourse  with  the  slender  girl,  but  she  was  quite 
a  robust  young  woman  now.  She  had  suddenly  emerged  from  miss- 
hood  under  his  very  eyes,  and  he  had  not  noted  it.  No  sea-sickness ; 
no  neuralgia,  and  with  eyes  that  were  positively  lovely  !  If  Hyland 
had  not  been  such  a  chucklehead  he  might  have  gotten  this  prize  for 
the  asking ! 

He  strolled  across  the  deck  and  sat  down  on  one  of  Haidee's 
numerous  cushions. 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Haidee,"  he  said,  "  but  I  saw  you  so  absorbed 
in  your  book,  that  I  could  not  restrain  my  curiosity.  May  I  ask 
what  you  are  reading?" 

"  *  Ivanhoe,' "  answered  Haidee,  politely  closing  the  boolv, 

"  Ah,  yes  !  I  remember.  All  about  knights  and  warriors  and 
lovers." 

"Not  much  about  lovers,"  replied  Haidee.  "  I  was  just  reading 
about  DeBracy  and  his  courtship  of  Rowena.     He  wanted  an  estate." 

"Mercenary!"  ejaculated  Daltman,  while  he  winced  under  the 
grey  eyes.  "  Still,  I  suppose  he  had  the  requisite  amount  of  affec- 
tion for  the  lady.     I  forget.     Did  he  get  her  at  last?" 

"  Certainly  not !"  replied  Haidee.  "  Sir  Walter  could  not  make 
such  a  mistake  as  that!  I  really  think  the  Templar  far  more 
respectable." 

"The  Templar?  Oh,  yes!  He  was  the  fellow  that  carried  off" 
the  Jewess.  What  stunning  horses  they  must  have  had  in  those 
days  !  You  see  the  Templar  had  half  a  ton  of  old  iron  on  his  body. 
You  have  read  the  story  ?" 

"  Six  times." 

"  By  Jove  !"  said  Daltman,  involuntarily,  "  I've  heard  of  a  fellow 
that  kept  sane  when  in  a  dungeon  by  losing  six  pins  and  then  hunt- 
ing for  them  in  the  dark  !  But  to  read  one  of  those  books  six  times ! 
Whew!" 

"  What  sort  of  books  do  you  read,  Mr.  Daltman  ?"  asked  Haidee, 
demurely. 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  have  to  read  up  all  sorts  of  things.  Chiefly  scientific 
books.  Those  that  relate  to  my  profession,  of  course.  You  know 
we  subalterns  have  a  lot  of  engineering  to  do.  Then  we  have  to 
study  histories  of  wars.     But  Sir  Walter  always  seemed  dry  sort 


SISTA.  199 

of  reading  to  me.  Anyhow,  you  have  read  enough  for  to-day. 
Allow  me  to  escort  you  from  the  after  hatch  to  the  foremast  and 
back.  You  should  take  more  exercise.  The  doctor  says  so.  See  I 
he  is  giving  your  sister  a  regular  constitutional.  Let  us  take  the 
other  side  of  the  deck." 

Haidee  took  his  offered  arm,  wondering  what  this  unwonted  po- 
liteness meant.  He  had  been  very  devoted  to  Juliet  hitherto,  and 
this  was  a  sudden  attack  of  courtesy.  It  indicated  something,  and 
Haidee  with  keen  vision  sought  out  the  motive. 

"  Why  don't  you  read  poetry  sometimes,  Miss  Haidee  ?"  said 
Daltman,  as  they  began  the  promenade. 

"  I  do.     I  read  the  *  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel'  yesterday." 

"  Scott  again.     He  must  be  your  favourite  author." 

"  I  have  not  read  much  poetry.  I  mean  rhymes.  I  have  read 
'  Paradise  Lost'     Also  '  Pollok's  Course  of  Time.'     It  is  dreadful !" 

"  Which?"  said  Daltman,  smiling. 

"  The  *  Course  of  Time,'  "  answered  she,  with  a  shudder.  "  But  I 
have  read  Maha  Nataha.  It  is  in  the  Pracrit,  and  is  very  pretty. 
Zeba  taught  me  more  than  anybody  else.     Poor  Zeba !" 

"What  ails  Zeba?"  said  Daltman,  a  little  roughly.  He  was 
jealous  of  Zeba. 

"  He  lost  his  arm,  you  know,"  said  Haidee,  simply,  "and  his  eye. 
There  was  more  poetry  in  Zeba's  attitude  when  he  faced  the  tiger 
than  I  ever  found  in  books.  He  is  a  noble,  you  know.  He  taught 
me  a  Pracrit  song — the  '  Song  of  the  Tulwar' — while  he  was  getting 
cured  of  his  wounds." 

"  It  was  quite  plucky,  no  doubt,"  observed  Daltman,  "  but  he 
probably  thought  he  had  killed  the  brute  instead  of  only  wounding 
him." 

"I  fancy  not,"  replied  Haidee,  quietly;  "he  only  stood  there  be- 
cause we  were  in  danger.     He  says  he  knew  his  shot  had  missed." 

"  Well,"  said  her  companion,  "  Zeba  was  a  soldier.  He  was 
brave.  He  risked  his  life,  of  course,  but  all  soldiers  do  that.  There 
is  poetry  in  all  battle-fields,  only  a  fellow  don't  have  time  to  pick  it 
out.     Any  soldier  would  have  done  the  same  that  Zeba  did." 

"  Mr.  Rayneford  did  more,"  said  Haidee — "  he  killed  the  tiger. 
And  he  is  not  a  soldier  either." 

"  Ah,  well !"  answered  Daltman,  "  I  see  that  tiger  fight  made  a 
great  impression  upon  you.  I  have  killed  a  dozen  tigers,  and  never 
found  much  fun  in  the  sport." 

"  When  one  is  on  an  elephant,  with  plenty  of  guns,  and  with 


200  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

plenty  of  armed  companions,  it  is  not  so  exciting  as  when  one  stands 
alone  with  nothing  but  a  tulwar  and  a  dauntless  heart." 

"  Really !"  said  Daltman,  laughing,  "you  should  write  that  down  I 
It  sounds  like  a  passage  from  a  romance.  But  I  am  not  going  to 
make  game  of  your  heroes.  If  you  had  passed  through  rough 
scenes,  and  escaped  from  more  frightful  perils,  you  would  not  invest 
that  encounter  with  such  romantic  interest.  By-the-bye,  Rayneford 
prefers  the  more  peaceful  pursuits.  He  refused  to  join  us,  because 
he  was  cultivating  some  horrid  vegetable  drug !" 

"And  Zeba?"  said  Haidee. 

"  Oh,  Zeba  was  just  mysterious  and  obstinate.  He  pretended,  or 
perhaps  believed,  that  his  tulwar  announced  Hy land's  return  to 
Calcutta.     Of  course,  we  knew  better." 

"/don't,"  murmured  Haidee. 

"Why,  Zeba  would  have  detained  the  ship  if  he  could!"  said 
Daltman. 

"  And  as  he  could  not  he — waited." 

Mr.  Daltman  was  growing  weary  of  the  discussion.  But  Haidee 
went  on. 

"  When  I  was  too  young  to  know  anything,  Zeba  brought  me  and 
Sista  through  a  howling  wilderness  to  papa.  Sometimes  we  were 
surrounded  by  enemies,  and  had  to  hide  for  days  in  the  thickest 
jungle.  The  Sepoys  were  chopping  up  little  children  wherever  they 
found  them,  only  because  they  were  white.  If  he  had  given  me  up 
he  could  have  gone  with  safety  from  Lahore  to  Lucknow.  There 
was  no  risk.  Papa  did  not  dream  that  I  was  living  until  Zeba 
placed  me  in  his  arms  at  Lucknow." 

"I  shall  remember  Zeba  with  gratitude  hereafter,"  said  Daltman, 
fervently. 

"  It  was  because  Zeba  was  a  gentleman,"  continued  Haidee ;  "  that 
is  all.  Papa  sent  him  to  Lahore  without  any  positive  orders.  Cer- 
tainly not  to  bring  me  back.  For  he  did  not  know  that  I  lived. 
He  knew  my  mamma  was  dead,  but  did  not  know  that  I  was  born. 
And  Zeba  was  only  instructed  to  get  all  the  information  he  could 
obtain  and  some  jewels  of  value  that  my  mamma  owned." 

''  Did  he  get  them  ?"  said  Daltman,  much  interested. 

"  Oh,  yes !  Heigho !  I  don't  like  to  think  of  that  horrible  time. 
I  have  learned  all  I  know  about  it  since  I  have  grown  up.  How 
nice  it  is  to  have  all  the  sails  spread  !  The  captain  says  we  shall  be 
in  England  in  two  weeks." 

"  And  you  have  never  seen  England  ?" 


SISTA.  201 

"  Xo.  But  I  know  Castledane.  Papa  has  told  me  so  often 
about  it.  And  Clifton  Downs!  I  am  more  eager  to  see  Clifton 
than  any  other  place." 

"There  are  hundreds  of  places  in  England  far  more  attractive," 
answered  Daltnian.  "  I  hope  to  show  you  all  the  Court  beauties 
during  the  summer.  AN'hen  the  colonel  is  well  enough,  he  is  going 
to  take  a  cruise  in  the  'Juliet.' " 

"But  lam  going  to  ex])lore  them  by  land,"  said  Haidee.  "I 
have  had  enough  of  the  sea." 

"  Do  not  traduce  the  sea,  Miss  Haidee  !  It  has  planted  a  large 
crop  of  roses  in  your  cheeks.  I  look  back  with  amazement  to  the 
time,  only  a  few  months  ago,  when  you  were  a  confirmed  invalid. 
You  are  not  the  same  little  Haidee  of  the  hill  country.  The  sea 
has  transformed  you." 

"With  the  aid  of — quinia,"  thought  Haidee.  "And  now,"  she 
continued,  aloud,  "  I  will  go  back  to  '  Ivanhoe,'  if  you  })lease." 

Mr.  Daltnian  had  full  occupation  for  his  wits  during  the  remain- 
der of  the  voyage.  He  had  been  quite  pronounced  in  his  attentions 
to  Juliet  hitherto,  and  it  was  no  easy  task  to  reduce  the  devotion 
by  degrees,  while  he  made  regular  approaches  in  a  different  direc- 
tion. He  was,  hapj)ily,  so  completely  satisfied  with  himself,  that  he 
had  no  doubts  of  the  result,  when  he  decided  which  lady  to  tixke. 
Castledane  with  either,  and  neither  without  Castledane.  He  was 
by  no  means  a  "bad  fellow,"  only  supremely  selfish,  and  consequently 
totally  incapable  of  the  sort  of  affection  that  would  attract  Haidee. 
If  he  could  have  seen  into  her  mind,  and  detected  how  accurately 
she  had  weighed  him,  he  would  have  abandoned  all  hope  of  winning 
her.  The  conceit  that  blinds  its  victim  is  a  beneficent  infliction 
after  all.  It  prevented  Daltman's  discovery  of  the  humiliating  fact 
that  Colonel  !Mordaunt  would  ])romptly  decline  the  honour  of  his 
alliance ;  that  Juliet  thought  him  a  terrible  bore,  and  that  Haidee 
would  far  prefer  her  old  neuralgia  to  him  for  a  life-long  companion. 

He  had  repeated  short  colloquys  with  Sista.  The  ayah  had  dis- 
covered that  it  was  important  for  Sahib  Colonel  to  be  Haidee's  pro- 
genitor. She  got  more  beer  for  any  little  additional  knowledge  she 
could  impart,  and  when  her  memory  was  defective  or  her  knowledge 
limited,  her  imagination  was  active.  Daltnian  became  possessed  of 
sundry  scraps  of  personal  history  concerning  the  Mordaunts  which  cer- 
tainly could  not  have  been  found  in  their  diaries,  if  they  kept  them. 
Sista  was  acute  enough  to  know  she  incurred  no  risk  in  making  these 
liberal  revelations.     It  was  a  secret  investigation,  and  she  knew  it. 


202  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Ouce  Daltman  ventured  a  hint  to  Dr.  Leigh. 

"  Doctor,"  he  said,  "  do  you  think  there  is  a  more  decided  likeness 
between  Miss  Juliet  and  the  colonel  than  between  the  two  ladies?" 

"  Hum  I"  said  the  doctor,  "  did  you  ever  notice  the  colonel's  nose?" 

"  Not  particularly." 

"  Well,  there  it  is !     Take  a  look." 

The  colonel  was  in  his  hammock,  ten  yards  distant.  His  profile 
stood  out  against  the  horizon.  It  was  a  well-cut  nose,  with  thin 
nostrils.  The  ladies  were  promenading  the  other  side  of  the  deck, 
to  windward,  as  they  did  not  like  smoke.  Daltman  examined  the 
fair  faces,  as  they  passed  near  him,  in  their  walk. 

"I  think  they  all  look  alike,"  said  Frank,  at  last.  "They  all 
have  noses  and  I  cannot  detect  the  least  difference.  Miss  Haidee  is 
singing  some  gibberish " 

"  Gibberish  !     That  is  the  '  Song  of  the  Tulwar.'  " 

"But  the  noses,  doctor?"  said  Daltman. 

"  Well !  They  all  have  noses,  as  you  have  said,  and  so  they  re- 
semble one  another.  But  the  girls  have  very  defective  noses.  Don't 
you  see  ?     They  don't  like  the  odour  of  our  cheroots." 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

Disinterested  Affections. 

"  T  TNCLE,"  said  Mr.  Daltman,  three  weeks  after  the  discussion 
^^  of  noses,  "  please  tell  me  what  you  know  of  Castledane  and 
its  owner." 

Mr.  Brentam  started.  They  were  seated  at  dinner.  Miss  Carey 
and  Frank  on  opposite  sides  of  the  table,  and  !Mr.  Brentam  at  the 
head. 

"  Castledane  ?"  said  the  latter,  deliberately.  "  That  is  the  name 
of  an  old  ruin  not  far  from  Bath.  The  estate  belongs  to  the  Mor- 
daunts." 

"  Exactly  !"  responded  Frank.  "  And  I  am  curious  to  know  to 
which  of  them." 

"  Which  of  the  Mordaunts  ?"  said  his  uncle.  "  So  far  as  I  know, 
there  is  only  one  of  them  left — Colonel  Mordaunt,  who  came  with 
you  from  India." 

"And. the  estate  is  his?" 


DISINTERESTED  AFFECTIONS.  203 

"  I  suppose  so.  I  remember  there  was  a  joint  ownership,  twenty- 
odd  years  ago.  Two  brothers,  Horace  and  Dane,  inherited  jointly. 
There  was  some  sort  of  encumbrance  upon  the  estate,  in  the  form  of 
an  annuity,  I  think ;  but  it  probably  ceased  at  the  death  of  the  an- 
nuitant. It  is  a  very  pretty  property.  Horace,  the  colonel,  is  sole 
heir,  no  doubt." 

"He  was  married  in  India,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes.  So  I  have  heard.  He  is  a  widower,  I  believe,  with  two 
daughters." 

"  Only  one." 

"  You  certainly  wrote  about  two,"  said  Mildred — "  Juliet  and 
Haidee." 

"One  is  adopted,"  said  Daltman.  "At  least  that  is  the  rumour. 
No  one  seems  to  know  which  of  the  ladies  is  the  colonel's  daughter." 

"  You  might  detect  a  family  resemblance,  certainly,"  observed 
Mildred. 

"  Well !  I  spent  two  weeks  on  that  special  investigation,"  replied 
Daltman,  discontentedly,  "  but  I  could  reach  no  certain  conclusion. 
At  one  time  I  would  fancy  I  had  detected  a  distinguishing  trait  of 
character,  or  tone  of  voice,  or  peculiarity  of  feature,  and  the  next  day 
I  would  be  sure  to  find  these  very  marks  more  decidedly  manifested 
by  the  other." 

His  uncle  and  cousin  laughed  immoderately  at  this  speech.  Frank 
was  nettled. 

"  A  fellow  would  like  to  know  positively,  you  know,"  he  said. 
"But  there  is  no  way  to  find  out.  One  cannot  ask  the  question,  of 
course.  It  would  be  a  pretty  mess — no  end  of  a  sell — for  a  fellow 
to  propose  to  the  wrong  one !" 

"  You  can  afford  to  take  your  choice,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Brentam. 
"  Give  me  a  drop  of  Burgundy.  Plenty,  thank  you  !  Your  fortune 
is  large  enough  now  for  either  of  the  ladies." 

"Yes.     But  Castledane?" 

"Pooh!"  said  his  uncle.  "What  of  Castledane?  If  you  get 
the  wrong  one  you  can  probably  buy  Castledane  of  the  other. 
Anyhow,  the  estate  belongs  to  the  colonel.  He  can  leave  it  to 
either." 

"  Ah !"  answered  Frank,  "  that  is  precisely  what  he  cannot  do. 
The  estate  is  tied  up  by  stringent  provisions." 

"  How  did  you  learn  that  ?"  asked  Mr.  Brentam,  incredulously. 

"  Oh !"  replied  Daltman,  with  charming  frankness,  "  I  investi- 
gated that  point  since  I  landed.     Castledane  is  certainly  Colonel 


204  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Mordaunt's  property  now,  but  he  cannot  bequeath  it  at  all.  It  is 
entailed.  The  future  owner  may  be  the  child  of  either  one  of  the 
joint  heirs,  and  there  were  three — Horace,  Dane,  and  Annot. 
But  no  one^of  their  children  can  inherit  except  by  the  concurrent 
conveyance  of  tiie  others.  Horace  still  lives,  and  is  present  owner. 
We  have  to  find  proof  of  the  death  of  the  others,  without  issue, 
before  Colonel  Mordaunt's  daughter  can  perfect  her  title." 

"A  little  more  |Burgundy,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Brentam.  "Dane 
went  to  India  before  his  brother.  He  may  have  married  there,  and 
there  may  be  a  dozen  heirs." 

" No,  sir,"  replied  Daltman.  "I  think — that  is — I  have  heard 
the  colonel  has  his  brother's  will.  He  died  very  soon  after  his 
arrival,  or  very  soon  after  the  colonel  arrived.  The  difficulty  is 
about  the  other." 

"What  other?" 

"  Annot." 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation.  INlildred  arose  and  passed 
out  to  the  drawing-room.  The  gentlemen  cracked  walnuts  and 
sipped  wine  in  solemn  silence.  Mr.  Brentam  appeared  to  be  medi- 
tating over  by-gone  days.  Mr.  Daltman  was  recalling  his  talks  with 
Sista.  While  they  were  smoking,  each  waited  for  the  other  to 
renew  the  conversation. 

"  Annot  Mordauut  married  a  Mr.  Dale,"  said  the  other.  "  It  is 
twenty-five  years,  I  think,  this  summer.  They  went  to  America. 
Mr.  Dale  once  owned  land  here " 

"  Dale's  Manor  ?"  said  Daltman. 

"  Yes.  Twenty  years  ago  I  wanted  his  signature,  and  I  sent  a 
trusty  man  to  hunt  him.  He  was  gone  six  months.  America  is  a 
large  country,  and  he  could  not  find  Mr.  Dale.  But  he  found  a 
cemetery  and  a  tombstone  in  it,  bearing  the  name  of  Annot  ^lor- 
daunt  Dale,  and  the  age  recorded  was  twenty-eight  years.  I  have 
no  doubt  this  was  the  colonel's  sister." 

"  And  her  heirs  ?"  said  Daltman,  eagerly.  "  Did  she  leave  chil- 
dren?" 

"  I  cannot  tell.  No  traces  could  be  found.  My  agent  advertised 
in  all  the  large  papere,  offering  a  reward  for  intelligence  of  Mr.  Dale. 
It  was  in  Charleston,  South  Carolina.  So  I  have  concluded  to  wait 
patiently  for  some  claimant  to  demand  the  signature  of  ]Mr.  Dale,  to 
perfect  ray  title.  It  is  not  probable  that  the  property  will  be  offered 
for  sale,  so  it  makes  little  difference." 

"It  borders  on  Hawkley,  if  I  remember,"  observed  Daltman. 


DISINTERESTED  AFFECTIONS.  205 

"Are  you  going  in,  sir?  Thank  you  !  I  have  luul  plenty.  Mil- 
dred will  ,<i;ive  us  some  tea." 

They  gathered  around  the  whist-table  after  the  conventional  cup 
of  tea,  Mr.  Brentixni  taking  the  dummy. 

"  ]>v-the-l)ye,  uncle,"  said  Fratd<,  "  talking  of  Hawkley,  what  has 
become  of  Lord  Kayneford  ?" 

"  That  question  has  been  propounded  a  hundred  times  since  the 
spring,  but  I  have  not  been  able  to  give  a  very  satisfactory  answer. 
The  general  impression  is  that  he  has  left  England." 

"  His  bankers  ought  to  know,"  said  Daltman. 

"Tiiey  have  not  heard  one  word  from  him  since  his  disappear- 
ance," replied  his  uncle. 

"If  anything  should  happen  to  him  Hyland  would  be  in  luck. 
That  is,  if  Hawkley  is  not  weighted  down  too  heavily.  He  would 
have  the  title  anyhow.  And  he  is  such  a  skinflint  that  he  is  safe  to 
die  rich." 

"  Skinflint !"  said  Mildred.     "  That  must  be  a  slander,  Frank  !" 

"  Well,  I  did  not  mean  skinflint.  I  should  have  said  prudent  or 
economical.  He  would  not  participate  in  any  expensive  amusements 
in  Calcutta.  Pie  said  '  he  was  after  rupees.'  He  told  me  so.  He 
wanted  a  lac.  Now  if  he  meant  silver  rupees  only,  you  can  judge 
how  long  he  would  have  to  scrape  and  save  to  make  ten  thousand 
pounds !" 

"  Is  he  in  Calcutta  ?"  asked  Mr.  Brentam.  "  Diamonds,  IMildred  ! 
You  are  certainly  not  going  to  revoke,  with  the  trump  turned  up  at 
your  elbow?" 

"  Excuse  me,  uncle.     Play,  Frank  !" 

"Calcutta?"  said  Daltman.  "Oh,  no  !  He  is  up  in  the  moun- 
tains. Got  a  fine  post.  Getting  double  pay.  He  has  made  friends 
Avith  the  chief,  and  gets  no  end  of  praise.  He  is  engineer,  photog- 
rapher, and  arboriculturist.  We  wrote,  inviting  him  to  join  our 
party  and  visit  England.     But  he  was  too  busy  to  answer." 

"Perhaps  your  invitations  did  not  reach  him,"  said  Miss  Carey. 

"  But  they  did  !"  replied  Frank.  "  Glendare  got  some  missionary 
news  from  the  same  station  a  day  before  we  sailed.  This  was  in  re- 
sjwnse  to  enquiries  that  went  with  our  invitations.  Why,  I  asked 
him  to  join  me  in  a  cruise  in  my  yacht !  By-the-bye,  uncle,  I  shall 
be  ready  for  sea  in  a  week  or  two.     AVIU  you  go?" 

"  Not  I !" 

"  It  will  be  jolly !"  said  Daltman.  "  I  am  going  to  sail  right 
down  Bristol  Channel,  and  tlien  circumnavigate  the  island !     We 


206  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

will  stop  where  we  please,  and  as  long  as  we  please,  and  when  you 
get  enough  of  the  sea,  you  can  always  get  to  a  railway " 

"  Provided  you  are  not  wrecked  !"  said  the  elder.  "  I  am  grateful 
for  your  invitation,  but  beg  to  decline.  I  can  get  quite  as  much  sea 
as  I  want  in  crossing  from  Dover." 

"  Mr.  Plimpton  says,"  continued  Frank,  "  that  Lord  Rayneford 
is  somewhere  in  England.  He  is  entirely  satisfied  about  that.  He 
has  some  detective  fellow  prowling  all  over  the  island.  But  I  forgot ! 
that  is  a  secret.  I  played  the  king,  sir.  Three  honours  in  my  own 
hand.     That  is  game." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  rising,  "  I  am  going  into  the  library, 
if  you  will  excuse  me.     You  and  Mildred  can  play  cribbage." 

But  the  younger  gentleman  preferred  a  cheroot  out  on  the  lawn, 
and  Miss  Carey  was  kind  enough  to  accompany  him,  and  endure  the 
detestable  odour.  There  were  sundry  matters  relating  to  his  Indian 
experience  that  interested  her.  When  they  were  comfortably  seated, 
Frank  being  to  leeward,  she  adroitly  drew  out  the  information  she 
sought. 

"  You  wrote  me  that  you  and  your  friend  had  drawn  lots  for 
the  ladies,"  she  began,  "  and  I  think  you  said  you  won  the 
elder?" 

"  Ya-as !"  drawled  her  cousin,  "  that  is  very  true,  Milly.  But 
Rayneford  is  a  flirt !     No  constancy  about  the  fellow  !" 

"  Oh,  then  !  he  began  with  attentions." 

"No,"  interrupted  Frank,  "not  that  exactly,  either.  He  did 
not  draw  lots.  But  I  made  him  choose  between  Juliet  and  Haidee 
before  we  had  seen  them.  I  can't  say  he  selected  Haidee ;  he  only 
rejected  t'other  angel.  At  that  time  I  thought  Juliet  as  the  elder 
would  be  most  likely  to  inherit  Castledane.  I  don't  mind  telling 
you,  Milly,  that  my  heart  has  been  set  on  Castledane  for  ever  so 
long.  I  went  all  over  the  property  ten  years  ago.  And  when  I 
met  the  colonel  in  Calcutta,  I  thought  it  was  quite  providential." 
And  he  blew  away  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  fell  into  pious  meditation. 
Mildred  waited. 

"  Rayneford  is  a  sort  of  woman-hater !"  he  continued ;  "  that  is, 
he  has  a  lot  of  romantic  ideas  about  the  sacredness  of  marriage,  the 
necessity  for  undying  mutual  attachment,  the  meanness  of  taking  a 
young  woman  who  happens  to  be  encumbered  with  tin." 

"Tin?" 

"Yes.  Tin,  loot,  money,"  explained  Daltraan.  "Hamishand 
he  read  me  an  awful  moral  lecture  on  the  subject.     They  were  thick 


DISINTERESTED  AFFECTIONS.  207 

as  thieves,  inseparable  in  fact,  and  I  did  not  see  as  much  of  Rayne- 
ford  after  wo  went  to  the  hills." 

"  But  you  did  not  go,"  said  Miss  Carey ;  "  you  wrote  uncle  an 
account  of  Mr.  IWneford's  departure,  and  said  something  about  his 
wound  healing.     Wliat  wound?" 

"  lie  got  a  scratch  in  a  tussle  with  a  tiger,"  answered  Frank ; 
"  we  were  all  in  the  mess,  Glendare  and  I,  but  Rayneford  was  armed 
and  we  were  not.  The  brute  leaped  at  him,  and  as  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  the  use  of  weapons,  he  was  clumsy,  and  got  a  bad 
scratch." 

If  it  had  happened  that  Mr.  Daltman  encountered  that  tiger 
instead  of  Hyland,  it  is  not  at  all  probable  that  he  would  have 
recounted  the  adventure  in  after-life.  Some  such  thought  occurred 
to  him. 

"  But  I  must  say,"  he  went  on,  "  Rayneford  showed  no  end  of 
jiluck  !  He  stood  his  ground,  and  killed  the  beast.  And  it  was  a 
royal  man-eater,  too ! 

"I  tell  you,  Milly!"  he  continued,  after  a  pause,  "that  adven- 
ture was  unlucky  for  me  !  The  girls  were  present,  and  Rayneford 
has  been  a  kind  of  demigod  in  their  eyes  ever  since.  Haidee  espe- 
cially holds  him  in  reverence  !  I  should  not  care  if  the  fellow  had 
any  heart.  But  he  is  callous  as  a  stone  !  It  would  be  an  immola- 
tion for  a  sensible  girl  like  Haidee  Mordaunt  to  be  married  to 
a  cold-blooded  fellow  like  Rayneford !  It  makes  me  shudder  to 
think  of  it!" 

"  But  you  are  surely  needlessly  distressed,"  said  Mildred.  "  You 
say  he  cares  for  no  woman.  Miss  Mordaunt  will  hardly  marry  him 
against  his  will." 

"  He  has  never  seen  her,"  said  Daltman ;  "  I  mean  since  she  has 
come  out.  She  used  to  go  about  the  bungalow  with  her  head  tied 
up  in  a  sack.  After  he  went  to  the  mountains  she  was  cured  of  her 
neuralgia,  and  she  suddenly  bloomed  into  a  beautiful  woman.  I  did 
not  notice  her  particularly  until  we  were  at  sea.  She  is  always 
swallowed  up  in  some  infernal  romance,  and  Miss  Mordaunt  was 
rather  exacting,  and — and,  I  did  not  dream  that  Haidee  would 
inherit  Castledane  until  recently." 

Mildred  laughed  at  this  last  sally,  blurted  out  with  rare  honesty. 

"  Your  disinterested  attachment — to  Castledane,  is  quite  touching, 
Frank !  But  I  am  still  at  a  loss  to  account  for  your  disquietude. 
Your  formidable  rival  is  at  the  other  side  of  the  world " 

"  Ah,  but  I  don't  know  that !"  said  Frank.     "  Another  ship  was 


208  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

to  follow  the  '  Lord  Clive'  in  a  few  days,  and  it  is  possible  that  Hy- 
land  may  come  in  her.    In  fact,  both  Haidee  and  Juliet  expect  him." 

"Why  should  he  decline  your  company,  and  then  come  at  last?" 

"Just  like  him  !"  ejaculat€d  Frank.  "  It  does  not  seem  reason- 
able to  expect  him,  yet  he  may  come." 

"And  if  he  does?" 

"  Then  he  will  see  Haidee  !    And  then — good-bye  to  Castledane !" 

"Really,  Frank,"  said  Miss  Carey,  with  some  asperity,  "you  are 
an  enigma!  You  have  everything  in  your  favour.  You  are  upon 
terms  of  particular  intimacy  with  the  lady.  You  have  a  hundred 
opportunities.     You  are  far  more  eligible " 

"  Ah,  Milly  !  will  you  help  me?     I  need  your  woman's  wit." 

"  How  much  money  is  Castledane  worth  ?"  said  Mildred,  mis- 
chievously. 

"  Castledane  be  blowed  !  I  tell  you  I  could  get  spoony  about 
that  girl  in  a  week.  Now  hear  the  whole  truth.  If  I  knew  Haidee 
Mordaunt  had  not  a  shilling  in  the  world,  I  should  court  her  with 
all  my  powers.  She  has  laid  a  spell  upon  me.  And  the  devil  has 
made  her  prefer  Rayneford.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  know  that, 
but  I  do  know  it.     Will  you  help  me  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  It  is  a  compact,  then,"  said  Frank,  "  and  now  I  will  tell  you  my 
plan.  She  is  full  of  romance.  Any  fellow  who  would  put  on  a  lot 
of  armour,  and  go  gallopping  over  the  country,  and  run  his  head  into 
danger  on  her  account  could  get  her.  I  am  going  to  rescue  her,  by 
Jove!" 

"From  what?" 

"  I  don't  know  yet.     I  must  think  about  it.     I  will " 

"  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  from  the  library  window,  "  have  you 
seen  the  pajier  ?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"Well,  here  is  a  bit  of  news.  The  'Congo'  arrived  yesterday, 
bringing  late  news  from  the  Cape.  The  '  Bengal,'  from  Calcutta, 
sailed  on  the  10th,  with  one  passenger,  Mr.  Hyland  Rayneford. 
She  will  arrive  withiri  a  week.  Better  come  in.  It  is  damp  out 
there." 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  ?"  said  Frank,  as  they  went  in.  "  My  pro- 
phetic soul  warned  me!     W^hat  next,  Milly?" 

"  Wait,"  she  answered  ;    "  the  *  Bengal'  has  not  arrived  yet." 


THE  START.  209 

CHAPTER    XXXV. 
The  Start. 

YERY  soon  after  the  mysterious  (lisa]>pea ranee  of  Lord  Rayne- 
ford,  his  kinsman,  Mr.  IMimpton,  decided  to  employ  tlie  de- 
tective, Mr.  Dancer,  who  had  distinguished  himself  several  times  in 
the  service  of  Mr.  Plimpton's  legal  firm.  He  had  uneartiied  two  or 
three  frauds  of  large  j)roportions  in  a  celebrated  will  case;  had  re- 
covered certain  stolen  documents  that  were  hopelessly  lost,  and  vir- 
tually gained  the  case  for  the  clients  of  Plimpton  and  Plunger.  It 
was  not  strange,  therefore,  that  the  senior  partner  had  great  confi- 
dence in  Mr.  Dancer's  abilities.  And  as  he  was  at  this  time  on  a 
cold  scent,  hunting  an  absconding  cashier  whose  testimony  was  all- 
important  to  the  firm,  Mr.  Plimpton  added  the  search  of  Rayneford 
on  ins  private  account. 

The  effect  of  this  double  commission  was  to  keep  Mr.  Dancer  in 
perpetual  motion.  When  in  York,  for  example,  and  quite  warm 
on  the  track  of  Mr.  Nokes,  the  missing  cashier,  the  detective  would 
suddenly  obtain  some  scrap  of  information  that  seemed  to  promise 
the  recovery  of  the  missing  nobleman.  And,  travelling  all  night, 
he  would  take  breakfast  at  the  Queen  Hotel,  in  Belfast,  the  next 
morning.  After  running  this  clue  to  earth,  and,  as  the  reader  knows, 
without  result,  he  would  start  for  Plymouth  on  an  errand  similarly 
fruitless.  The  travelling  expenses  of  Mr.  Dancer,  which  were  paid 
by  Plimpton  and  Plunger,  kept  the  head  clerk  of  the  firm  in  a  half- 
frantic  state  of  mind,  as  he  was  obliged  to  analyse  the  account  of 
outlays  and  distribute  the  expense  among  the  clients  "  in  interest." 

It  was  some  stray  scrap  of  information  from  Ilfracombe,  about  a 
half-drunken  mariner  who  had  spoken  of  "  Rayneford,"  that  took 
Mr.  Dancer  to  that  village.  It  happened  that  he  encountered  Mr. 
Jones,  as  already  recorded  in  a  previous  chapter,  and  the  mysterious 
obstinacy  of  the  sailor,  and  his  sudden  departure  in  the  "  Ripple," 
convinced  Mr.  Dancer  that  he  was  at  last  on  the  right  track.  His 
course  was  plain  enough  now.  He  had  only  to  keep  the  ex-mate  in 
sight  and  wait  developments.  So  he  telegraphed  Mr.  Plimpton  that 
he  had  a  promising  clue,  and  announced  his  intention  to  remain  a 
few  days  at  Milford.  He  was  very  much  discomfited  the  next  day 
by  the  receipt  of  a  despatch  from  Mr.  Plimpton,  requesting  his 
imme<liate  presence  at  Clifton  on  urgent  business. 

He  found  the  lawyer  at  one  of  the  hotels,  in  company  with  Dr. 

14 


210  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Leigh.  The  urgent  business  was  the  recovery  of  a  lost  young  lady, 
who  had  disappeared  unaccountably  the  previous  day.  She  was  a 
stranger  in  England,  having  very  few  acquaintances  in  the  country, 
and  there  was  no  conceivable  motive  to  induce  her  voluntary  disap- 
pearance. Her  father,  his  client,  Colonel  Mordaunt,  had  just  ar- 
rived with  his  family  from  India,  and  he  was  the  only  person  who 
knew  her  that  had  not  been  consulted  about  her.  The  colonel  was 
an  invalid,  and  the  fact  of  her  disappearance  was  concealed  from  him 
by  the  doctor's  advice. 

Mr.  Dancer  listened  to  this  account  without  winking:  his  ferret 
eyes,  and  noted  in  his  memorandum-book  the  chief  points  in  the 
story. 

"  Now,  gents,"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  "  please  answer  one  or  two  ques- 
tions.    How  old  is  the  lady  ?" 

"  Twenty." 

"  Where  was  she  positively  seen  last  ?" 

"  I  left  her  at  the  door  of  this  hotel,"  answered  the  doctor,  "  and 
I  saw  her  turn  the  comer  and  walk  towards  the  Observatory  on  the 
Downs.  Then  I  went  in,  examined  rooms,  ordered  dinner,  drove  to 
Bristol  in  a  cab,  and  returned  before  dark.  She  had  not  been  here 
at  all." 

"  Did  anybody  else  see  her  ?"  said  Mr.  Dancer. 

"  The  porter  who  took  our  luggage  in  saw  her  a  few  minutes  after 
she  went  on  the  Downs.     She  was  near  the  Observatory." 

"  Was  anybody  else  there?     Was  she  talking  to  any  one?" 

'•'■  No.  Nobody  was  on  the  Downs  except  a  travelling  photog- 
rapher, who  was  taking  views." 

"  Who  is  he  ?     What  does  he  say  ?" 

"  He  is  gone.  Probably  driving  about  the  surrounding  country 
taking  pictures." 

'*  Have  you  looked  for  him  ?"  enquired  Mr.  Dancer. 

"  Not  specially." 

"  All  right,  gents ;  I'll  report  to  you  in  the  morning."  And  Mr. 
Dancer  bobbed  his  red  head,  Avinked  his  red  eyes,  and  departed. 

Out  on  the  broad  Downs,  prowling  around  the  Observatory,  peer- 
ing into  the  eyes  of  every  person  he  met.  An  old  woman  seated  on 
a  stool,  having  a  rough  table  covered  with  a  newspaper,  and  exposing 
bits  of  polished  stone  for  sale.  Geological  specimens  from  St.  Vin- 
cent Rocks,  in  the  shape  of  paper-weights,  worth  about  a  penny  a 
bushel,  and  selling  at  a  shilling  each.  It  is  a  fine  evening,  but 
yonder  is  a  man  with  a  cloak  on  his  shoulders.    Hi !    It  is  the  very 


THE  START.  211 

foreign  savage  he  saw  at  Ilfracombe,  going  out  into  the  Channel  with 
the  tjjruir  oUl  s:iilor.  What  is  lie  up  to?  lie  just  sh)uehes  about, 
looking  at  the  people.  He  don't  notice  women  or  chiUlren,  but 
watches  all  the  men.  By-the-bye,  he  does  not  seem  to  see  Mr. 
Dancer.  Can  hardly  call  that  slouching,  either.  His  step  is  even, 
and  rather  stately.  His  head  erect,  and  his  body  straight  as  a  pole. 
Now  he  steps  aside  in  the  damp  grass,  to  allow  a  little  party  of  chil- 
dren p:\ssage  on  the  path.     The  heathen  bows  like  a  courtier. 

There  comes  the  moon,  and  the  sun  has  just  disappeared  behind 
the  western  hills.  And  here  comes  tiie  foreign  gent,  marching 
straight  down  the  path,  and  facing  the  moon.  His  eye — he  has 
only  one  eye — fixed  in  steadfast  scrutiny  ujion  the  ferret  eyes  of 
Mr.  Dancer.  It  is  rather  jolly  now.  Here  is  a  savage  that  the 
detective  has  been  shadowing  in  desultory  fasiiion  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  the  swift  conviction  flashes  upon  the  mind  of  Mr.  Dancer  that 
the  heathen  is  perhaps  shadowing  him.     Better  accost  him. 

"Fine  night,"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  as  the  Indian  reached  him.  "It 
will  be  cooler  in  an  hour." 

"Sahib  Rayneford?"  answered  the  Hindoo,  cautiously.  "You 
look  for  Sahib  Rayneford.     Find  him?" 

"Oh,  ah!"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  cautiously;  "you  are  looking  for 
Lord  Rayneford,  are  you?     When  did  you  see  him  last?" 

"  Yon  look  last  night,"  replied  Zeba;  "  look  in  ale  house;  look  on 
pier  when  boat  sail  away ;  look  on  pier  at  Milford ;  look  up  two 
streets;  look  behind  bales  and  casks.     What  want?" 

"  Suppose  we  go  down  this  court  ?"  said  Mr.  Dancer.  "  There  is 
good  beer  in  a  house  I  knoM'.     I'll  stand  a  pot." 

"  Thanks,  sahib,"  said  Zeba;  "  no  want  beer.  Promenade  down 
river.  Promenade  across  bridge.  Sahib  go  get  beer  and  come 
back." 

"This  looks  like  business,"  thought  Mr.  Dancer;  "he  wants  to 
get  rid  of  me.  No  harm  in  killing  two  birds  with  one  stone.  I'll 
work  up  this  case  a  bit.     When  did  you  come  here,  friend?" 

"Came  with  sahib  in  train." 

"  And  Jones  ?"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  suddenly.  "  AVhat  have  you 
done  with  Mr.  Jones?" 

"Ah!  sahib  know  Jones?  '  Jones  much  drink  rum.  Too  much 
drunk.  Jones  in  Milford."  And,  with  a  bow  of  dismissal,  Zeba 
turned  away,  catching  the  arm  of  a  new-comer  who  brushed  by  them, 
and  putting  an  interval  of  ten  yards  between  Mr.  Dancer  and  him- 
self before  the  detective  recovered  from  his  surprise. 


212  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Salaam,  sahib!''  whispered  Zeba;  "thief  behind.  Look  for 
Lord  Hyland.     Ask  nie  much  question." 

"  Zeba  !"  said  Hyhmd,  astoni.shed.     "  How  did  you  find  me  ?" 

"With  tulwar,"  answered  Zeba,  simply.  "Find  Beebe  with 
tulwar.     Safe.     Lord  Hyland  come  get  Beebe?     Out  on  the  sea." 

"  What!"  said  Hyland,  clutching  his  arm,  "do you  mean  the  lady 
Haidee?" 

"  Yes.    Beebe  Haidee  out  on  the  sea  !    Tulwar  find  her.    Come !" 

Crossing  the  high  bridge  with  such  enormous  strides  tiiat  Mr. 
Dancer,  trotting  behind  them,  was  quite  blown,  they  paused  at  a 
cottage  door.  There  were  tall  trees  along  the  roadside,  shading  the 
path  and  hiding  him,  and  when  the  door  was  opened,  he  was  near 
enougii  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  old  woman  who  oi)ened  at  their 
knock — "  Mr.  Robinson  !" 

"  It  is  I,  Mrs.  Noils,"  said  Hyland.     "  I  want  Tommy." 

"  He  is  in  the  stable,  sir.     Walk  in,  and  I'll  fetch  the  key." 

"  Stable  ?"  said  Zeba,  in  a  whisper,  "  horse  ?  Too  slow  !  Sahib 
take  train  on  river-bank.  Catch  steamship  at  Mendon,  where  river 
grow  large.  Steamship  get  Milford  when  moon  high  in  sky.  Get 
Beebe  before  sun  come  back.     Come  !" 

While  Mr.  Dancer  crouched  down  on  the  roadside  in  the  shadow, 
tiie  two  men  came  racing  out  from  the  cottage,  and  passed  him.  The 
heathen's  cloak  blew  aside,  and  the  detective  saw  the  long  sword 
strajiped  up  to  his  left  breast,  his  hand  resting  on  the  hilt. 

"  Desperate  burglars,  murderers,  and  savages!"  said  Mr.  Dancer, 
rising,  and  watching  them  as  they  sped  across  the  bridge;  "  but  I'll 
know  '.m.  And  now  to  see  what  is  in  the  house."  So  saying,  he 
entered  the  enclosure,  and  knocked  at  the  door  just  closed.  A  placid- 
faced  old  woman  opened,  holding  up  a  lamp,  and  peering  at  him 
through  her  spectacles. 

"  Sorry  to  disturb  you  again,  Mrs.  Noils,"  said  he,  "  but  Mr. 
Robinson  left  a  paper,  and  sent  me  back  for  it." 

"  Walk  in,  sir  !"  replied  the  landlady  ;  "  he  was  only  at  the  door. 
Did  he  drop  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  no !"  answered  Mr.  Dancer,  readily  ;  "  it  is  somewhere  about 
his  room.  Lend  me  your  lamp,  please.  I  can  find  it."  And  he 
passed  in  with  easy  confidence. 

Meantime,  Hyland  and  Zeba  descended  the  bank  to  the  railway 
station.  Zeba  had  gained  accurate  information  about  trains  and 
connections.  The  train  about  to  start  would  reach  Mendon  as  soon 
as  the  Milford  steamer,  which  had  left  Bristol  two  hours  earlier. 


THE  START.  213 

Tliov  obtainoil  tickets  for  Miltonl,  and  entered  the  first  little  tunnel, 
while  Mr.  Dancer  was  industriously  searching  for  the  lost  "paper." 

Hvlaiid  had  spent  the  entire  day  in  seckinii;  some  information 
about  the  "Ariadne."  He  had  witnessed  the  abduction  of  Ilaiilee, 
and  had  seen  the  name  of  the  schooner,  as  she  passed  down  the  river 
on  the  previous  day.  He  had  a  vague  idea  that  some  villainy  was 
afo(»t,  but  was  perplexed  when  he  discovered  that  Miss  Carey  was  an 
apparent  partv  to  the  abduction.  The  object  of  his  visit  to  Bath 
was  to  see  Colonel  ^lonlaunt  and  tell  him  the  whole  story,  little 
dreaming  that  Haidee  w'as  enwrapped  in  the  bundle  of  shawls  he  had 
seen  on  the  deck  of  the  "  Ariadne."  His  subsequent  discoveries  came 
in  rapid  succession.  First,  the  arrival  of  JNIildred  at  Bath  in  his 
own  train.  Second,  the  information  he  gained  at  his  interview  with 
her.  Third,  the  fact  that  Haidee  Mordaunt  had  disappeared,  and 
the  swift  conclusion  that  she  had  been  carried  off  by  the  schooner ; 
and  la.st,  the  identity  of  Haidee  with  the  maiden  whose  picture  he 
had  in  his  breast. 

Then  came  the  prompt  impulse  to  find  and  rescue  her,  and  he  and 
Glendare  had  gathered  all  that  could  be  learned  about  the  schooner 
at  the  Bristol  docks,  and  this  was  very  meagre  information.  A 
stupid  clerk  at  a  shipping  office  only  knew  she  had  sailed  for  Cork. 
She  had  brought  a  cargo  to  Bristol  from  some  Spanish  port,  and 
she  went  to  Cork  in  ballast.  He  parted  from  Glendare  at  the  hotel 
in  Clifton,  and  encountered  Zeba  a  few  minutes  later,  on  the  Downs. 

He  had  eaten  nothing  during  the  day,  and  when  the  little  steamer 
left  the  dock  at  Mendon,  he  and  Zeba  obtained  a  substantial  supper 
in  the  dining-saloon.  With  the  after-supper  cheroot,  Hyland's 
faculties  recovered  their  normal  tone,  and  as  he  and  the  Indian  paced 
the  narrow  forecastle,  Hyland  began  to  be  conscious  that  he  was 
being  led  by  the  most  absurd  of  superstition  or  humbug,  and  to 
doubt  his  own  sanity. 

"Tell  me,  Zeba,"  he  said,  leaning  against  the  capstan,  and  looking 
steadilv  at  the  sober  face  of  the  Hindoo,  "how  did  you  hapj)en  to 
findBeebe?" 

"  Not  happen,"  replied  the  Indian,  composedly.  "  Hunting  sahib's 
brother.  Ask  tulwar.  Tulwar  say  to  Milford  go.  Find  Jones  at 
Ilfracombe,  and  sail  in  his  little  ship  to  Milford.  Jones  sleep  and 
I  sing.  The  song  of  tulwar  sing.  Big  ship  sail  past  while  I  sing, 
and  Bcebe  sing  back  to  me.  Nobody  know  song  of  tulwar  but  Beebe 
and  warrior.  Ask  tulwar  next  day,  when  sun  come.  Tulwar  say 
to  Linton  Sands  go.     Find  light-house  there,  and  sing  again.     Sing 


214  TUE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

not  same  song ;  but  sing  Be^be  wait  till  Lord  of  tulwar  come.  Tliat 
Sahib  Hyland.  Then  to  Clifton  go.  Ask  tulwar  where  Sahib  Hy- 
land  find  ?  Tulwar  say,  Clifton.  Jones  want  drunk.  Go  Clifton 
and  find  sahib.     That  all." 

'•  But  you  were  not  hunting  Beebe,"  said  Hyland. 

"  No !"  answered  Zeba,  thoughtfully.  "  I  go  Milford  to  find 
sahib's  brother.  But  tulwar  know  Beebe  on  ship.  Tulwar  must 
serve  Lord  of  tulwar." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"No.  Myself  not  understand.  Sahib  Lord  of  tulwar.  Sahib 
must  be  Lord  of  Beebe  too!" 

Hyland  felt  the  warm  blood  rushing  to  his  forehead.  Despising 
himself  for  the  weakness,  he  was  still  conscious  of  a  tlirill  that  shook 
his  frame,  and  seemed  to  shake  the  solid  capstan.  With  a  shame- 
facedness  that  he  could  neither  justify  nor  resist,  he  changed  the  topic. 

"  And  when  will  you  find  my  brother  ?" 

"  Tulwar  will  show,"  answered  Zeba,  tapping  the  hilt ;  "  get  Beebe 
first,  then  sahib's  brother  find." 

It  was  near  midnight  when  Mr.  Flellen,  who  occupied  the  upper 
floor  of  the  ex-mate's  domicile,  admitted  Hyland  and  Zeba.  They 
found  Mr.  Jones  spread  out  upon  the  cot  in  a  state  of  happy  uncon- 
sciousness. There  was  a  fine  aroma  in  the  room,  compounded  of 
Jamaica  rum  and  tobacco-smoke.  He  was  deaf  when  awake  and 
sober.     He  was  totally  oblivious  when  asleep  and  drunk. 

"  Good  drunk !"  said  Zeba,  after  a  vain  effort  to  arouse  the  sleeper. 
"  Not  wake  till  sun  come.     Sahib  take  boat  and  get  Be^be." 

"  This  is  madness !"  said  Hyland.  "  Who  can  guide  us  to  the 
light-house  ?" 

"  Zeba,"  answered  the  Indian.  "  Sahib  not  fear !  Come  !"  And 
he  took  down  the  key  from  the  wall.  ''Unlock  boat.  Sail  put  up. 
Know  all  the  way.  Come  !  Sahib  put  on  Jones's  coat  and  hat. 
Jones's  son  have  light-house.     Maybe  get  Beebe  without  kill.     Son 

think  Jones  come  back.    If  he  find  sahib  not  father "    He  drew 

the  tulwar  out  a  few  inches  and  drove  it  back  into  the  scabbard  with 
an  ominous  click. 

The  moon  was  directly  overhead  as  the  "  Ripple"  glided  out  of 
the  narrow  dock.  Hyland  sat  on  the  after-thwart,  holding  the  sheet, 
•while  Zeba  steered.  They  had  to  tack  once  to  pass  a  yacht  anchored 
in  the  stream.  As  the  "  Ripple"  luffed  up,  almost  under  her  bows, 
Hyland  heard  the  clank  of  the  capstan  bars  as  the  anchor  was  hoisted 
in,  and  saw  jib  and  mainsail  rise  in  the  bright  moonlight. 


A   PROPOSAL.  215 

"  Boat  ahoy  !"  came  the  hail  from  the  yacht.  There  was  no  re- 
sponse, and  the  little  fishing-boat  slipped  away  as  the  larger  vessel 
slowly  moved  in  the  light  breeze. 

"  No  use  to  hail,"  said  a  voice  from  the  waist  of  the  yacht.  "  It 
is  old  Jones.  Deef  as  a  log !  Belay  there  and  up  witii  the  foresail ! 
Never  heed  Jones.  He  will  keep  out  of  our  way.  He  can  see 
prime  if  he  is  deef." 


CHAPTEll    XXXVI. 
A  Proposal. 

COLONEL  MORDAUNT  found  Castledane  in  a  dilapidated 
condition.  The  great  park  had  been  neglected  for  twenty 
years.  The  mansion  had  been  rented  to  a  succession  of  tenants,  who 
had  not  improved  the  appearance  of  the  property.  The  agent  made 
no  repairs  that  could  be  avoided,  the  owner  was  at  the  antipodes, 
and  one  tenant  after  another  vacated  the  house,  which  was  in  charge 
of  a  kee])er  when  the  family  arrived  in  England.  The  young  ladies 
were  charmed  with  the  natural  beauties  of  the  grounds,  and  especially 
delighted  with  the  ivy-grown  ruin  that  gave  the  name  to  the  estate. 
That  was  to  remain  in  its  rugged  wildness,  but  extensive  inroads 
upon  the  colonel's  stock  of  rupees  had  been  projected  at  their  first 
hasty  visit. 

The  day  following  Mr.  Daltman's  confessions  to  his  cousin  found 
that  gentleman  at  Bath.  The  colonel  and  his  daughters  had  driven 
over  to  Castle  Dane  with  an  architect  from  London.  Mr.  Daltman, 
if  he  arrived,  was  to  follow,  and  join  the  party  at  luncheon  alfresco 
at  the  ruin. 

He  found  the  party  exploring  the  mansion,  which  was  quite  an- 
cient, though  more  recent  than  Castle  Dane.  It  had  been  erected 
in  the  days  of  the  Virgin  Queen,  when  the  Mordaunts  were  prosper- 
ous courtiers,  but  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  soldiers  of  the 
Commonwealth.  From  that  time  to  the  beginning  of  the  present 
century  the  Mordaunts  had  been  poor  and  proud,  and  the  first  rep- 
resentative of  the  line  who  might  be  called  rich  was  the  present 
owner,  who  had  held  lucrative  offices  in  India,  and  was  entirely  able 
to  restore  the  ancient  inheritance  to  its  original  grandeur.  And  as 
Daltman,  following  them  from  room  to  room,  overheard  the  discus- 
sions between  the  colonel  and  the  architect,  he  gradually  reached  the 


216  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

conclusion  that  his  host  had  "lacs,  no  end."  His  own  inheritance, 
with  its  late  addition,  made  him  quite  eligible,  however,  and  the 
uppermost  thought  in  his  beneficent  mind  was,  that  he  had  better 
secure  one  of  the  two  ladies  for  himself  before  some  enterprising 
countryman  should  also  learn  the  financial  dimensions  of  his  pro- 
posed father-in-law.  He  observed  that  the  colonel  always  paid 
special  attention  to  any  suggestion  from  Haidee  touching  the  pro- 
jected improvements.  This  confirmed  his  conclusion  that  Haidee 
was  the  true  heiress  of  Castle  Dane. 

The  park  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  ruined  castle  had  been 
severely  left  to  nature,  and  was  consequently  "  lovely,"  as  the  ladies 
asserted.  After  luncheon,  when  the  rest  of  the  party  returned  to 
the  grounds  near  tiie  mansion  to  inspect  the  stables  and  coach-houses, 
Mr.  Daltman  begged  Haidee  to  remain  and  explore  the  surround- 
ings, offering  to  forego  his  cigar.  The  quick-witted  maiden  had 
divined  his  purpose  to  make  serious  proposals  to  herself,  and  quietly 
consented.  They  had  taken  their  mid-day  repast  under  a  giant 
oak,  which  was  reproduced  in  Mr.  Robinson's  first  photograph  a  day 
or  two  later,  and  they  were  seated  upon  very  old-fashioned  chaii's, 
which  had  been  brought  from  the  dining-room  at  the  mansion  for 
this  special  occasion. 

"  I  am  not  going  into  the  park,  please,"  said  Haidee ;  "  it  is  too 
pleasant  here.  The  view  is  beautiful,  and  these  old  chairs  are  far 
nicer  than  bits  of  stone  and  roots  of  trees." 

"  But  I  want  to  see  the  wood,"  expostulated  Daltman. 

"  Ah  !  Well,  I  will  wait  for  you.  I  have  been  all  through  it 
once." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  see  it  without — that  is,  alone,"  said  Dalt- 
man. "  I  cannot  tell  what  should  be  admired.  You  see,  I  have  been 
in  the  jungle  of  late  years." 

"'  It  is  not  as  pretty  as  the  jungle,"  said  Haidee. 

"So  you  keep  up  your  attachment  to  India?"  said  Daltman. 
"  You  surely  would  not  go  back  ?" 

"  Yes.     If  papa  and  Juliet  went." 

"But  Castledane?"  said  Daltman.  "Do  you  feel  no  attachment 
to  Castledane  ?" 

"Yes.  I  should  like  to  live  here  always.  It  is  more  beautiful 
than  I  expected  to  find  it.     I  am  quite  impatient  to  see  it  in  winter." 

"  I  have  almost  decided  not  to  go  back,"  said  Daltman,  after  a 
pause.  "  I  have  a  little  place  in  Essex,  and  I  think  of  settling 
down,  and  quitting  the  army." 


A   PROPOSAL.  217 

"And  go  into  Parliament?"  said  Haidee. 

"Pei'linps.  lint  I  must  ivlin<inisli  my  baclielorhood.  A  fellow 
is  notliiiii;-  in  Parliament  without  a  wife.  And  I  feel" — putting  as 
mueh  pathos  into  his  tones  as  he  could  command — "  quite  lonely. 
A  fellow's  life  is  wasted  so  long  as  he  is  single." 

Haidee  did  not  reply.  She  had  eaten  a  liberal  supply  of  salad, 
and  had  imbibed  some  beer,  and  was  drowsy. 

"  Perhaps  yon — perhaps  I  had  better  stick  to  the  army  ?"  said 
Daltman,  after  some  reflection.  "You  would  think  so,  I  suppose, 
as  the  colonel " 

"Army?"  said  Haidee,  rousing  herself.  "Oh,  no!  I  am  going 
to  make  pai)a  retire  on  half-pay." 

"Ah,  then!"  said  Daltman,  eagerly,  "we  are  agreed  thus  far. 
Now  about  matrimony.  Don't  you  think  I  might  venture  to 
marry  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  You  know  I  am  not  at  all  exacting,"  continued  Daltman,  trying 
to  recall  some  of  Glendare's  postulates.  "  Marriage  is  a  very  serious 
business." 

"  Yes,"  said  Haidee,  nodding,  partly  in  acquiescence  and  partly 
from  somnolency. 

"Very  serious!  No  fellow  should  marry  until  he — until  he  has 
fully  weighed  the  responsibilities.  Should  he  make  a  mistake,  and 
get  the  wrong  young  woman,  there  would  be  no  end  of  a  mess,  you 
know." 

"You  might  take  a  middle-aged  lady,"  observed  Haidee,  M-ho 
had  actually  caught  a  dozen  winks,  and  had  heard  the  last  remark 
imperfectly. 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what  you  think  about  love  and  matri- 
mony, ^liss  Haidee.  You  know  you  have  read  such  a  lot  of  books 
about  that  business,  and  I  am  entirely  green.  I  only  know  there  is 
a  depth  of  devotion,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Of  course!  Very 
proper!  I  am  sure  I  am  capable  of  undying  devotion,  if  encour- 
aged. There  is  no  fellow  in  England  more  easily  satisfied  than  I 
would  be.  All  I  would  ask  would  be  a — a  sympathising  heart, 
you  know.  My  estate  is  quite  respectable,  and  no  doubt  I  could 
take  ray  pick  of — that  is — I  mean  I  would  not  be  rejected  as  ineli- 
gible. But  the  heart !  the  heart !  Ah  !  one  may  control  everything 
else,  but  his  aflfections  once  fixed  on  the  beloved  object!  If  his 
hopes  are  wrecked,  it  is — a  dreadful  sell !  Will  you  please  give  me 
your  oj)inion  ?" 


218  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  My  opinion  ?"  replied  Haidec.  "  I  have  not  formed  one,  Mr. 
Daltman." 

"  Oh,  yes !  Excuse  me,  but  you  must  have  some  theory  about 
love '' 

"  Yes,"  answered  Haidee,  coolly ;  "  but  you  would  not  understand 
it,  Mr.  Daltman.     Let  us  go  see  how  they  will  remodel  the  stables." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  Daltman,  "  and  hear  me  out.  I  am  sate  to 
make  a  mess,  I  know,  but  you  will  forgive  me.  If  I  had  only  read 
up  a  little  more  on  this  subject !  But  I  can  learn.  Miss  Haidee, 
if  you  could  only  give  me  the  least  bit  of  encouragement,  I  would 
kneel  at  your  feet " 

'*  Pray  don't !"  said  Haidee,  rising.  "  John  spilled  some  oil  there 
when  he  was  dressing  the  salad."  She  moved  away,  and  he  caught 
her  hand  and  detained  her.  She  looked  round  at  him  composedly, 
but  with  a  little  more  colour  in  her  cheek  than  usual. 

"  Pardon  me  again,"  he  said,  humbly ;  "  my  awkwardness  is 
shameful,  I  know.  But  I  am  in  dead  earnest.  Miss  Haidee.  I  will 
do  anything  you  wish.  I  will  wait  as  long  as  you  say.  I  will  never 
oppose  your  preferences,  and  I  will  swear  to  make  no  complaints. 
Do  not  say  no  without  reflection.  You  think  I  will  be  exacting  and 
capricious  and  unreasonable.     I  swear  to  you " 

"  Pray  don't  swear  at  all,  Mr.  Daltman,"  said  she,  withdrawing 
her  hand ;  "  I  am  quite  flattered  by  all  you  say,  but  I'd  rather  go 
look  at  the  stables." 

"  What  the  devil  ought  a  fellow  do  ?"  said  Daltman,  despairingly. 
"  I  am  quite  ready  to  prove  my  sincerity,  if  you  will  only  say  the 
■word.  I  have  set  my  heart  upon  this — upon  you,  and  you  throw 
me  over  without  mercy.  Will  you  marry  me — upon  any  terms  you 
like?  Settle  your  property — every  penny  of  it  upon  yourself — yes 
— and  mine  too!  every  penny  of  it!    Only  say  I  may  hope!" 

"  Mr.  Daltman,"  said  Haidee,  slowly  and  with  stately  dignity,  "  I 
am  very  sorry  I  allowed  you  to  say  all  this.  Forget  it,  and  I  will 
forget  it,  and  no  one  in  the  world  will  know.  You  seem  to  be  so 
earnest  that  I  cannot  believe  you  are  not  sincere.  But  there  is  no 
possibility " 

"  Please  don't,  Haidee !"  said  he,  eagerly — "  please  don't  say  the 
final  word  yet !  Please  wait  until  to-morrow — next  week !  Only 
wait !  Something  may  turn  up.  I  may  have  the  chance  to  prove 
my  devotion.  Grant  me  only  this.  I  will  not  ask  for  anything  but 
delay.  Heavens !  How  can  you  be  so  cruel  as  to  tear  a  fellow's 
heart  up  into  bits  and  then  trample  on  it?" 


A  PROPOSAL.  219 

"  It  is  not  probable  that  I  shall  ever  marry,"  said  Haidee,  as  they 
walked  away.  ''  1  could  not  marry  unless  the  man  I  called  lord 
were  nobler  than  any  ideal  I  have  formed.     I  have  never  read  in 

books  any  description  of  the  man  I  could  marry " 

«  Is  there  no  such  man  on  the  earth?"  said  Daltman,  jealously. 
"  I  do  not  know,"  she  answered,  with  perfect  comi)osure  ;  "  but  I 
am  certain  he  is  not  among  my  acquaintances.     All  you  have  said 
about  hearts  broken  and  trodden  down  I  have  read.     It  is  quite 
pretty,  but— excuse  me— it  is  your  word,  you  know— bosh  !" 
He  staggered  as  if  hit  by  a  bullet. 
"  I  am  quite  willing  to  believe  you  are  disappointed.     Nay,  I  am 

willing  to  believe  you  prefer  me  to  any  other  woman  you  know 

"  That  is  true  as  gospel  1"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  thank  you  for  the  compliment  then.  And  show  the 
sincerity  of  your  attlichment  by  granting  my  request." 
"  Any  request  of  yours  is  law  to  me,"  he  said. 
"  Then  let  this  be  our  last  conversation  upon  this  subject.  You 
need  never  refer  to  it  to  me  or  to  others.  I  certainly  shall  not 
remind  you  of  it.  We  have  been  very  good  friends.  Let  us  fall 
back  into  our  old  relations." 

"  You  seem  ten  years  older,"  said  Daltman,  "  since  I  began  this 
talk,  and  ten  years  wiser,  and  ten  thousand  times  more  attractive.  I 
have  been  a  rash  fool,  and  destroyed  my  chances  by  my  unseemly  haste. 
If  I  had  known  you  better,  I  should  have  been  more  circumspect. 
I  should  have  made  my  approaches  in  more  courtly  fashion.  But  I 
was  afraid  some  other  'fellow  would  see  you,  and  win  you  before  I 
had  spoken,  and  so  I  rushed  headlong  to  my  own  destruction." 

"  Do  not  think  so,  Mr.  Daltman,"  said  Haidee,  as  they  drew  near 
the  stables.  "  It  would  not  have  been  more  impossible  to  marry 
you,  if  I  had  been  already  married,  or  already  buried  !  Excuse  me, 
please !  I  say  this  to  relieve  your  mind.  You  have  thrown  away 
no  chance.  Do  not  think  so.  You  never  had  the  ghost  of  a  chance 
to  throw  away.  Your  mode  of  address  made  no  sort  of  difference. 
If  you  were  king  of  England  it  would  not  alter  the  case.  Excuse 
me  again  !"  And  she  stopped  in  the  path  and  faced  him,  with  fearless 
grey\yes,  full  of  truth  and  gentleness.  "  You  have  laboured  to 
convince  me  that  you  would  be  entirely  satisfied  with  me,  and  would 
not  exact  too  much.  But  it  has  not  occurred  to  you  to  enquire 
whether  /  might  not  exact  more  than  you  could  render !  With  all 
your  excellent  qualities— and  doubtless  you  have  many— you  have 
one  fatal  fault.     You  are  selfish  !" 


220  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Daltman,  gloomily ;  "  all  men  are  selfish." 

"  Then  I  shall  never  marry,"  answered  Haidee ;  "  and  let  that 
content  you.  I  do  not  even  say  you  are  more  selfi.>^h  than  other  men, 
or  more  selfish  than  all  humanity.  But  I  shall  never  marry  a  selfish 
man  !" 

*'  If  the  old  times  would  come  back  again  !"  said  Daltman,  speak- 
ing through  his  teeth,  "  when  deeds  of  valour  counted,  when  patient 
endurance  found  a  reward,  when  long  exile  awakened  pity^ — " 

"  Bosh  again  !"  said  Haidee ;  "  excuse  me  !  But  don't  you  see  that 
your  persistence  is  the  proof  of  all  I  have  said  ?  Knightly  valour 
counted  for  nothing  unless  the  valour  was  beneficent  !  Patient 
endurance  never  found  a  reward  when  the  reward  was  })ayment  for 
the  endurance." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Daltman,  sullenly,  "that  you  are  full  of 
romantic  notions  that  every  day's  experience  should  dispel.  Do  vou 
suppose  any  man  in  the  world  would  seek  to  marry  any  woman  in 
the  world  merely  for  lier  sake?  It  is  because  you  are  necessarv  to 
my  happiness  that  I  sought  you  !  AVhy  should  I  attemj)t  to  deceive 
you  by  so  shallow  a  pretense  as  an  unselfish  affection.  There  is  no 
such  thing  on  earth.  It  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  You  have  heard 
the  absurd  stuff  that  Glendare  and  Rayneford  used  to  formulate 
last  year !     It  is  the  same  idle  dream,  of  unselfish  devotion  !" 

Ah,  Mr.  Daltman  !  That  was  a  very  unfortunate  speech  !  While 
Haidee  turns  that  pleasant  smile  upon  you,  it  is  not  you  she  smiles  at. 

"Come,  Mr.  Daltman,"  she  said,  "let  us  go  in.  I  hear  papa's 
voice.  "  But  do  not  delude  yourself  by  supposing  I  have  learned 
my  theories  from  ^Ir.  Glendare  or  any  one  else.  I  never  heard  a 
word  spoken  on  the  subject  by  any  one.  I  never  read  it  in  foolish 
romances.  All  that  I  think  on  the  subject  of  marriage  I  have  gotten 
from  one  Book — the  Holy  Scriptures !" 

"  Why !"  said  Daltman,  startled,  "  that  is  precisely  what  those 
fellows  said  last  summer  !" 

Oh,  blockhead! 

"Haidee!"  said  Colonel  Mordaunt's  voice,  "are  you  there?" 

"Yes,  papa." 

"  You  must  have  been  asleep  !     Come  round  to  the  door." 

"  I  think  I  have  been  asleep  once  or  twice.     It  was  the  salad." 

"Asleep!"  murmured  Daltman,  lighting  his  cigar,  and  walking 
away.  "  Asleep  !  Well,  that  is  positive  mendacity  !  I  wonder  if 
she  learned  that  in  the  Bible,  too!  What  a  beautiful  little  devil 
f-he  is  !     I'll  not  relinquish  her,  by  Jove  !" 


THE  ABDUCTION.  221 

CHAPTER    XXXVII. 
The  Abduction. 

HAIDKE  was  impatient  to  soc  Clifton  Downs.  Dr.  Lei*;!)  was 
going  to  Menclon  by  the  Bristol  steamer,  iintl  coming  back  by 
rail,  and  would  spend  a  day  or  two  in  Clifton.  So  a  letter  was  sent 
to  St.  Vincent's  Hotel  to  secure  rooms.  In  due  time  they  reached 
Clifton,  and  after  climbing  the  Zigzag,  the  doctor  proceeded  to  the 
hotel,  charged  with  the  bestowal  of  the  luggage,  and  with  an  order 
for  dinner  at  six,  at  which  time  Haidee  promised  to  present  herself. 
Then  she  walked  out  upon  the  wide  Downs. 

The  Observatory  iirst.  She  was  going  to  inspect  it  carefully,  and 
then  cross  the  bridge.  There  was  a  photographer  near  the  Observa- 
tory, crawling  around  his  tripod  half  asleep.  His  wagon,  drawn  by 
a  glossy  pony,  was  rather  in  the  way,  l)ut  she  walked  by.  The  pony 
looked  good-natured  and  winked  lazily  at  her,  and  she  put  out  her 
hand  and  patted  his  neck.  Then  she  peeped  over  his  back  to  see  if 
the  owner  had  noticed  her.  But  he  had  buried  his  head  in  a  yard 
of  black  velvet  and  was  adjusting  his  camera.  So  she  passed  on 
and  surveyed  the  structure  with  great  deliberation.  The  photog- 
rapher was  still  "  under  a  cloud,"  jerking  the  tripod  al)out,  and  turn- 
ing screws  back  and  forward  in  a  half-somnolent  fashion.  How 
tiresome  the  man  was!  Then  she  saw  a  placard  announcing  a  grand 
display  of  fireworks  at  "the  Gardens"  at  nine  o'clock  sharp.  She 
would  make  Dr.  Leigh  take  her,  and  she  carefully  read  the  list  of 
attractions,  standing  still  as  the  Observatory  behind  her.  A  few 
seconds  were  enough,  and  in  those  few  seconds  the  artist  had  with- 
drawn the  slide,  uncovered  the  camera,  counted  fifty,  and  thrown  the 
velvet  cloth  over  the  instrument.  While  he  was  fumbling  about  the 
tripml,  she  turned  away,  repassed  the  pony,  who  remembered  her  and 
winked  again,  and  who  received  another  gentle  ])at.  Then  she 
strayed  on  to  the  bridge,  and  leaning  on  the  parapet,  looked  down 
the  Avon,  admiring  the  hills  on  either  side. 

Here  comes  the  photographer.  He  is  lolling  indolently  on  the 
seat,  not  driving  at  all !  The  pony  is  master  of  the  situation.  The 
reins  are  twisted  around  the  whip,  and  the  driver  is  asleep  and 
smoking.  Look  at  the  smoke  coming  through  his  thick  beard  ! 
No !  he  is  not  asleep !  He  straightens  his  body  up — he  looks  like  a 
gentleman — he  lifts  his  hat  as  he  passes  her  with  a  courtly  bow. 

Sir  Hyland !     All   bearded   and    bronzetl,  but    undoubtedly  Sir 


222  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Hyland.  And  he  does  not  know  her.  He  never  looks  back — not 
once! 

She  walks  back  to  the  Downs,  recklessly  sacrificing  the  sixpence 
she  had  paid  to  "  cross  the  bridge  and  return."  Why  did  he  not 
recognise  her?  When  she  saw  him  last  he  was  thin  and  feeble, 
wearing  a  well-trimmed  moustache.  Now,  his  face  is  covered  with 
a  lovely  beard,  and  he  looks  strong  enough  to  lift  the  Observatory. 
He  does  not  know  that  he  cured  her  neuralgia.  Some  day  she  will 
tell  him  in  strict  confidence. 

Three  o'clock.  Plenty  of  time  to  spare.  She  will  go  down  the 
river  and  see  the  Carpen  Rocks.  Mr.  Glendare  mentioned  them  as 
curious  geological  formations.  And  Mr.  Daltman  was  quite  eloquent 
about  them  yesterday.  By-the-bye,  Mr.  Daltman  had  entirely  re- 
covered from  his  late  attack  of  tenderness.  The  Rocks  were  a  short 
mile  from  the  Observatory.     She  can  see  them  already. 

What  a  pretty  river !  Here  comes  a  schooner  down,  passing 
under  the  bridge.  She  will  reach  the  Carpen  Rocks  before  it  is 
abreast.  There  are  two  men  on  the  bank,  with  a  quantity  of  shawls 
on  their  arms.  One  of  them  has  tied  his  handkerchief  to  his  cane 
and  waves  it  high  above  his  head.  She  had  better  go  back,  as  there 
are  no  people  about  here.  Yes !  there  is  a  lady  at  the  base  of  the 
Rocks.  It  would  be  absurd  to  go  back  without  seeing  them.  The 
two  men  are  going — no,  they  are  coming.  And  the  lady  is  beyond 
them.     Here  they  come.     Honest-looking  men. 

"  Beg  pardon,  miss  !"  said  the  foremost,  touching  his  cap.  "  Miss 
Mordauut  ?" 

"  Yes."     The  lady  is  approaching  with  rapid  steps. 

"  Then  it's  all  rig^ht,  miss  !"  said  the  man.  "  The  colonel  is  aboard 
the  schooner,  and  sent  us  for  you.    See  !  the  boat  is  coming  ashore." 

"  The  colonel !"  said  Haidee,  drawing  back.  "  There  is  some 
mistake." 

"  No  mistake,  miss  !"  replied  the  man,  shaking  out  a  shawl  and 
throwing  it  suddenly  over  her  head.  "  Don't  be  alarmed,  miss. 
Nothing  will  harm  you.  Only  we  must  take  you  aboard  !  Put 
another  shawl  on,  Bill !     She  may  squeal !     Hurry,  stoopid  !" 

Almost  smothered  and  entirely  helpless,  the  shawls  bound  over 
her  arms,  she  feels  the  men  lift  her  from  the  ground  and  beiir  her 
swiftly  away.  And  while  bewildered  and  half  unconscious  from 
fright,  she  still  knows  she  is  on  the  boat,  is  lifted  up  on  the  vessel, 
and  laid  upon  the  deck.  She  makes  one  struggle  to  free  herself, 
but  is  picked  up  again  and  carried  a  few  steps  down  into  the  cabin. 


THE  ABDUCTION.  223 

Then  she  hears  the  hatch  close  with  a  snap,  and  tlic  click  of  the 
capstan  as  the  anchor  is  raised. 

"  Now,  miss,"  said  a  voice  neiir  her,  "  if  you  will  promise  to  make 
no  noise,  I'll  take  off  the  shawls  and  trust  you.  Please  hold  up 
your  hand  if  you  promise  and  meiin  fair." 

IShe  held  her  hand  up  prom[)tly,  and  in  a  moment  was  freed  from 
the  smothering  wrappings.  She  took  in  the  surroundings  rapidly. 
A  small  cabin,  with  a  mattress  on  a  long  locker.  Two  windows  in 
the  stern.  A  small  table  in  the  centre,  bolted  to  the  floor.  The 
man  was  standing  at  the  stairway  waiting  for  her  to  speak. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  she  said.  "Is  it  money  you  want? 
How  much  ?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "It  is  nothing,  miss!  Only  be  patient  a 
little  while.  Xo  harm  is  intended.  We  would  not  have  touched 
vou  if  vou  had  come  alouff." 

"  Where  am  I  going  ?" 

"Only  down  the  river  a  bit.  Cawn't  tell  exactly  how  far.  But 
ypu'U  be  taken  home  as  soon  as  possible.  I  am  ordered  to  tell  you 
this." 

"  Ordered  by  whom  ?"  said  Haidee. 

"  Ah  !  that  I  cawn't  tell  you,  you  know !  No  use  to  ask  that ! 
Nobody  knows  but  me,  and  fire  wouldn't  burn  it  out  of  me  !  I  must 
go  on  deck  now,  miss.  If  you  want  anything  just  knock  on  the 
table,  please." 

"  Before  you  go  answer  me  one  question.  Will  you  put  me  ashore 
for  money?     A  hundred  pounds.     A  thousand  pounds." 

"I  dasn't  listen  to  you,  miss!"  said  the  man,  ascending  the  stairs. 
"  Please  don't  worrit  yourself.  It'll  all  come  right.  I  swear  it,  by 
gum  !"     And  he  departed,  closing  the  cabin  hatch  behind  him. 

What  can  it  all  mean  ?  Apart  from  the  outrageous  seizure  of  her 
body  she  had  been  treated  with  the  greatest  deference.  Tlie  man 
who  had  just  left  her  stood  with  cap  in  hand  while  he  talked  with 
her.  There  was  certainly  no  cause  for  present  alarm.  She  had  a 
vague  knowledge  of  the  geography  of  the  east  coast,  but  could  not 
remember  how  far  Clifton  was  from  the  sea.  She  had  promised  to 
make  no  outcry,  and  no  help  was  near,  let  her  cry  never  so  loudly. 
She  climbed  up  on  the  after  locker  and  examined  the  fastenings  of 
the  stern  transoms.  They  were  secured  by  bolts,  and  she  found  she 
could  slide  the  sash  back,  which  she  did.  The  cool  breeze  from  the 
water  revived  her,  and  she  actually  found  herself  admiring  the 
scenery  upon  either  bank  of  the  widening  river  as  the  schooner 


224  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

glided  onward.  By-and-bye  slie  remembered  that  she  had  ordered 
dinner  in  Clifton,  and  she  had  eaten  no  Inncheon.  She  descended 
from  her  perch  and  knocked  on  the  table.  The  hatch  opened  on  the 
instant,  and  her  captor  appeared. 

"  I  want  some  tea  !"  she  said. 

*'  Coming,  miss !"  he  replied.  "  Almost  ready.  Bear  a  hand 
there,  Bill !" 

In  five  minutes  he  descended  the  stairs,  bearing  a  tray.  There 
was  a  pot  of  tea,  a  sugar  dish,  six  large  buns,  a  plate  of  cold  roast 
beef,  and  a  salt-cellar.  He  placed  the  tray  on  the  table,  touched  his 
cap,  and  scrambled  up  the  stairway. 

"I  cannot  eat  anything,"  she  murmured;  "but  perhaps  I  can 
drink  some  tea."  And  when  she  mounted  the  locker  again  there 
was  one  bun  left  and  almost  all  the  salt.  The  sun  was  down,  the 
river  was  still  wider,  and  the  vessel  rose  and  fell  upon  a  very  per- 
ceptible swell.  In  spite  of  her  indignation  and  excitement  the 
monotony  told  upon  her,  and  she  leaned  her  head  upon  the  window 
and  fell  asleep. 

Two  or  three  hours  of  dreamless  slumber,  and  then  she  was  in 
India  again.  Some  incidents  of  her  early  life  came  to  mind,  and 
she  dreamed  she  was  pursued  by  rebellious  Sepoys.  Her  only  hope 
was  in  Zeba,  who  was  hidden  in  the  jungle.  He  was  to  announce 
his  proximity  by  singing  a  Pracrit  war-song,  which  her  enemies 
could  not  understand.  And  while  she  slowly  awakened,  and  con- 
fusedly mingled  the  realities  around  her — the  lapping  of  the  water 
against  the  hull,  the  creak  of  the  yards  on  deck,  and  the  flap  of  the 
sail — with  the  fading  fragments  of  her  dream,  the  song  came,  clear 
and  distinct,  from  the  moonlit  river : 

"  The  Ganga  is  born  in  the  high  hills 
Where  the  frost  god  chains  the  streams ; 
But  it  leaps  from  the  rocky  prison 
Tearing  its  path  to  the  plain. 
So  is  the  sweep  of  the  tulwar 
In  the  hand  of  the  tulwar's  lord." 

It  was  the  Pracrit  song.  She  leaned  out,  and  anticipating  the 
singer,  who  should  have  repeated  the  last  two  lines,  she  sang : 

"  So  is  the  sweep  of  the  tulwar 
In  the  hand  of  the  tulwar's  lord." 

"  Beg  pardon,  miss,"  said  a  voice  at  her  elbow,  "  but  this  is  against 


THE  ABDUCTION.  225 

contract !    Orders  is  to  close  the  transoms."    And  he  shut  the  sashes 
:uk1  secured  them. 

"  I  insist  upon  an  explanation  of  this  outrage,"  siie  said,  facing 
the  man  with  iianghty  vehemence.  "  I  recall  any  promise  I  have 
made.     I  will  scream  for  help  as  long  as  I  can  raise  my  voice." 

"What  will  you  have,  miss?"  said  the  man,  submissively. 
*'  Don't  make  a  row,  and  I'll  do  whatever  you  bid  me." 

"Put  me  ashore  instantly,"  she  answered.     "That  is  all  I  ask." 

"  We  are  a  good  bit  away  from  tlie  shore,  miss.  If  you  promise 
to  keep  quiet,  I'll  take  you  on  deck  and  let  you  see  for  yourself." 

"  I  promise,"  she  answered,  eagerly.     "  Where  am  I  ?" 

"  Honor  bright,"  said  the  man.  "  You  won't  cut  up  rough,  nor 
flop  down  in  a  fit  nor  nothin'  if  I  take  you  up  ?" 

"  I  will  not." 

He  went  up  the  stairway,  and  held  his  hand  out  to  assist  her,  as 
she  gained  the  deck.  A  wide  expanse  of  water,  the  moon  gilding 
leagues  of  wavelets  in  the  wake  of  the  vessel,  and  nothing  in  sight 
except  a  cockleshell  of  a  sailboat  far  astern. 

"Now,  miss,"  said  the  man,  with  contrite  accents,  "I  am  sick  of 
this  business!  If  you  want  to  stay  aboard,  and  go  to — to  Glasgow 
— all  right!  If  you  want  to  be  landed,  I'll  put  you  ashore.  I 
swear  it,  by  gum  !" 

"  Where  can  you  land  me?"  she  said.     "  And  when?" 

"Look  forrard,  miss,"  replied  he.  "D'ye  see  that  red  light  just 
off  the  starboard  bow?" 

"  Yes.     What  is  it  ?" 

"  That  is  Linton  light,  miss.  There  is  shoal  water  all  round  this 
end,  but  we  can  heave  to,  and  land  you  there.  The  light-house 
keeper  will  take  good  care  of  you,  and  you  can  get  to  Milford  to- 
morrow.    There  is  a  steamer  running  from  Milford  to  Clifton." 

"  How  soon  can  I  land?"  she  asked,  all  other  considerations  sink- 
ing out  of  sight.     Once  on  terra  firma,  she  Avould  be  safe. 

"  In  thirty  minutes,  miss.     Will  you  go?" 

"Go!  Certainly.  I  have  very  little  money  with  me,  but  I  will 
pay  you  any  sum  you  demand  after  I  get  home." 

"  Don't  want  no  money,  miss,"  said  the  man,  sighing,  "  thank 
you  all  the  same.  Only  want  to  get  my  conscience  clear  of  this  here 
business."  And  he  smote  his  breast  with  his  fist.  "  You  see  I'm 
under  orders,  miss,  and  I  should  be  broke  if  I  disobeyed.  But  I'm 
going  to  land  you,  by  gum !  And  if  you  could  only  forgive  me  for 
my  part  of  this  here  outrage,  I'd  die  happy." 

15 


226  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Only  put  me  on  land,  and  I  will  forgive  you  all  you  have  done." 

"Thank'ee,  miss.  It  takes  a  load  off  my  mind.  Would  you 
mind  signing  a  bit  of  paper,  just  to  show  in  case  I  get  nabbed  ?  I'll 
write  it,  if  you'll  be  so  kind.  Here,  Bill,  bring  me  that  lantern. 
Set  down  here,  miss.  Bill,  spread  a  cloth  there  on  the  hatchway." 
And  taking  the  lantern,  he  dived  down  into  the  cabin. 

"  AVhat  is  the  name  of  this  vessel  ?"  said  Haidee  to  the  attendant. 

"  The  '  Swaller,'  miss,"  said  Bill,  promptly. 

"  And  the  name  of — the  gentleman  ^^'ho  just  went  down  ?" 

"Captain  Scroggs,  miss,"  replied  William. 

These  two  lies  slipped  from  his  tongue  so  readily  that  he  rose  largely 
in  his  own  estimation.  Somehow,  Haidee  knew  he  was  lying,  and 
propounded  no  more  questions.  Captain  Scroggs  reappeared  in  a 
few  minutes  with  a  slip  of  paper  and  pen. 

"  I'll  read  it,  miss,"  he  said,  putting  the  lantern  on  the  hatchway. 
"This  certifies  that  John  Scroggs  has  landed  meat  Linton  light, 
without  reward,  and  at  my  own  request." 

Haidee  read  the  paper,  and  affixed  her  signature,  notwithstanding 
the  defective  orthography.     He  had  spelt  the  final  word  "  rekwest," 

Her  attention  w^as  next  attracted  to  the,  movement  of  the  vessel, 
which  turned  towards  the  light-house,  now  plainly  visible,  and  quite 
near.  She  could  hear  the  breakers  and  see  the  line  of  white  water. 
The  boat  was  lowered,  and  she  was  carefully  assisted  over  the  side 
and  seated  in  the  stern  sheets.  Captain  Scroggs  and  Bill  dropped 
aboard,  put  out  the  oars,  and  pulled  straight  for  the  light.  Pres- 
ently the  boat  grated  against  the  landing,  and  she  was  assisted  again 
as  she  stepped  out  upon  the  flat  rock  at  the  base  of  the  tower.  To 
her  joy,  she  was  met  by  a  woman,  whose  arm  she  grasped,  while  she 
tried  to  gather  some  meaning  from  the  strange  language  the  woman 
used  to  welcome  her.  A  man  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the  tower 
with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth. 

"What  is  all  this?"  said  he. 

"  Lady.  Seasick.  Take  her  to  Mllford  in  the  morning.  You'll 
be  well  paid."  This  came  from  the  boat,  already  backing  away 
from  the  landing. 

"Aye,  aye!  Walk  in,  mum.  She'll  show  the  way.  Pity  she 
can't  talk  to  you,  mum.  Leastways  not  in  Hinglish.  She  don't 
know  a  word  of  any  lingo  but  Welsh.     Walk  in,  mum." 


THE  RESCUE.  2.21 

CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 
The  Rescue. 

HAIDEE  MORDAUXT  coukl  never  give  a  coherent  aeoonnt 
of  the  events  of  the  next  twenty-four  liours.  8he  knew  slie 
slept  fitfully  through  the  night,  and  that  the  next  morning  she  ex- 
plored the  narrow,  rocky  ledge  upon  which  the  light-house  stood. 
She  heard  the  Pracrit  war-song  again  in  the  morning,  and  saw  Zeha 
through  the  window,  which  was  securely  fastened.  She  saw  an  old 
sailor  in  an  oilskin  coat,  and  saw  the  sail  of  the  "Ripple."  She 
snatched  up  her  hat  to  rush  out,  but  her  door  was  locked  on  the  out- 
side! And  while  she  debated  the  question  Jis  to  whether  she  should 
scream  for  help,  she  saw  the  "  Ripple"  glide  away.  She  had  heard 
the  warning  song  of  Zeba,  enjoining  silence,  and  suddenly  concluded 
that  Sir  Hyland  was  busy  ])lanning  her  rescue  !  She  repeated  this  to 
hei*self  a  thousimd  times,  and  therefore  did  not  go  mad  as  the  hours 
wore  on.  The  wife  of  the  light-house  keeper  could  not  make  her 
understand  a  solitary  word,  and  the  man  kept  out  of  her  sight 
except  during  the  few  minut&s  before  the  "  Ripple"  sailed  away. 

On  the  second  night,  about  an  hour  after  midnight,  she  was 
startled  by  the  sound  of  the  Pracrit  song,  and,  rushing  to  the  window, 
she  saw  the  "Ripple"  coming  through  the  narrow  channel  in  the 
sands.  AVhile  she  watched  with  absorbed  attention  the  boat  touched 
the  landing,  and  a  man  leaped  ashore.  It  was  the  old  mariner  of 
the  previous  day,  in  his  oilskin  coat  and  hat.  He  o^me  to  the  win- 
dow and  endeavoured  to  open  the  sash,  which  was  secured  and  bolted,, 
and  of  course  immovable.  After  a  momentary  hesitation  he  re- 
turned to  the  landing  and  took  an  axe  from  the  boat,  while  Zeba, 
for  it  was  he  beyond  doubt,  secured  the  vessel  to  the  rocky  pier. 
The  old  sailor  wedged  the  axe  in  the  outer  sash,  and  with  a  M'rencli 
tore  it  from  its  fastenings.  Two  quick  blows  demolished  the  inner 
sash,  and  Zeba  put  his  hand  through  the  opening,  while  the  sailor 
cleared  away  the  fragments  that  prevented  her  egress. 

"  Beebe,  come  quickly !"  said  Zel)a.  She  stepped  upon  the  sill, 
and,  supported  by  the  two  men,  reached  the  boat  as  the  door  of  the 
dwelling  oj)ened  and  the  light-house  keeper  appeared. 

"Hillo!"  he  shouted,  "what  the  devil  are  you  up  to,  dad?" 
His  voice  was  husky  and  his  step  uncertain  as  he  stumbled  down  to 
the  pier. 

"  Gov'ment  property,  old  man  !"  he  roared.     "  What  d'ye  mean 


228  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

by  smashing  winders  this  time  o'  night  ?  What  are  you  doin'  with 
the  girl  ?  You  are  ruining  everything !  Come  back,  bless  your 
eyes  !" 

Zeba  faced  the  drunken  keeper,  disdaining  to  draw  his  weapon, 
while  the  old  man  drew  the  boat  near  the  rock.  At  the  moment,  a 
boat  containing  half  a  dozen  men  glided  up  to  the  mimic  pier,  and  a 
gentleman  sprang  ashore.  The  moon  was  lull  and  the  sky  cloudless. 
The  tall  masts  of  a  yacht,  just  off  tiie  sliore,  drew  graceful  curves 
against  the  sky  as  the  vessel  rocked  on  the  waves. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Daltman !"  said  Haidee,  springing  to  the  side  of  the 
Dew-comer,  "  take  me  away  from  this  dreadful  place !" 

"That  is  just  what  I  came  to  do,"  said  Daltman  ;  "what  devil's 
work  is  this !     "Who  has  dared " 

"  No  matter  now  !"  said  she  ;  "  take  me  away  !" 

Zeba  glanced  at  the  old  man  in  the  oilskin  garments,  and  then 
silently  drew  his  tulwar.  But  his  connmnion  caught  his  arm,  and 
M^hispering  a  word  in  his  ear,  stepped  aboard  the  "  Ripple,"  fol- 
lowed by  the  reluctant  Hindoo.  As  the  boat  drifted  away,  Dalt- 
man called  out — 

"  Stop  that  boat!  Cockswain  !  stop  them  !  I  want  to  investigate 
them  a  little." 

A  boat-hook  was  thrust  over  the  side  of  the  yawl,  and  catching 
the  "  Ripple"  by  the  mainstay,  drew  her  back  to  the  landing.  Mr. 
Daltman  stepped  aboard.  The  oilskin  coat  was  in  the  stern,  quiet 
and  peaceful. 

"Tumble  up  here!"  said  Daltman,  imperatively.  "Let  us  see 
what  you  are  like." 

"  Deef !"  said  the  keeper,  with  drunken  gravity — "  deef  and  drunk  I 
smashed  the  gov'ment  winder !     Here's  a  go !" 

"Come  out,  I  say!"  said  Daltman,  in  a  louder  tone.  The  oilskin 
arose,  stumbled  over  the  after-thwart,  caught  Mr.  Daltman's  legs  as 
he  recovered,  and  with  the  strength  of  a  giant,  raised  him  up  bodily, 
and  tossed  him  over  the  gunwale,  into  five  feet  of  water.  The  tul- 
war flaslied  in  the  moonlight,  and  descended  upon  the  boat-hook, 
cutting  it  in  twain,  and  the  "  Ripple"  once  more  drifted  into  the 
smugglers'  channel.  And  when  the  cockswain  had  drawn  his  dripping 
commander  ashore,  the  "  Ripple"  was  forty  yards  off. 

"  Follow  them !"  said  Daltman,  savagely.  "  Capture  or  kill  I 
Follow !" 

"  Aye,  aye !"  said  the  cockswain,  "  but  that  is  old  Jones,  and  he  has 
his  sail  up,  and  he  knows  every  foot  of  the  channel !    You  will  have 


TUE  RESCUE.  229 

to  give  liim  up  to-night,  captain.  Wc  can  get  iiim  when  you  want 
him,  at  Mil  ford." 

Zoha  sat  in  the  stern  of  tlie  flying  "llij)ple,"  steering  through  the 
channel  with  rare  dexterity,  lie  looked  anxiously  into  the  sober 
lace  of  his  companion,  who  sat  opposite,  holding  the  sheet,  but  re- 
mained silent  until  they  had  passed  The  Twins,  and  were  clear  of  the 
sanils. 

"Where  go,  sahib?"  said  the  Hindoo,  as  the  boat  danced  over 
the  waves,  beyond  the  line  of  white  water. 

"  Back  to  Milford." 

"  With  tulwar  and  axe  could  make  good  fight,"  observed  Zeba, 
his  nostrils  dilating  ;  "  but  sahib  like  not  fight.     Beebe  go  in  ship." 

"  Mr.  Daltman  will  take  her  home,"  said  Hyland,  composedly ; 
"did  you  not  hear  her?     She  called  for  him." 

"Beebe  know  not  Lord  Hyland,"  replied  the  Indian,  "yellow 
coat  and  hat.     Sahib  not  speak." 

"  But  she  knew  Mr.  Daltman  !"  said  Hyland,  with  a  jealous  pang; 
"she  flew  to  his  side  as  soon  as  he  appeared." 

"  Sahib  Daltman  dressed.     Good  coat.     Good  hat." 

"  I  am  afraid  they  got  wet !"  muttered  Hyland,  "  but  I  could  not 
help  it!  It  was  bad  enough  to  be  too  late.  It  would  have  been 
Morse  if  they  knew  it !  You  and  I  will  keep  the  secret  of  this 
adventure,  Zeba." 

When  Mr.  Daltman  planned  this  rescue,  he  arranged  to  take 
Haidee  on  a  little  longer  cruise.  He  had  prepared  a  lot  of  answers 
to  account  for  the  delay,  such  as  tides  and  currents  and  adverse 
winds.  But  he  had  not  made  provision  for  the  effect  of  salt  water 
on  his  habiliments,  and  no  amount  of  romance  could  atone  for 
trousers  that  exposed  his  stockings,  and  a  coat  whose  cuifs  drew  up 
to  his  elbows.  He  found  when  he  had  dried  his  garments  at  the 
galley  stove,  that  he  was  not  at  all  well  gotten  up,  and  he  had  no 
change  of  raiment  on  board  the  yacht.  It  was  absolutely  imperative 
to  return  to  Milford,  "where  he  had  left  his  luggage,  and  repair 
damages.  He  gave  up  the  luxurious  cabin  to  Haidee,  informing  her 
that  they  would  reach  Milford  in  an  hour  or  two.  Before  they  left 
the  light-house,  while  he  was  assisting  Haidee  into  the  yawl,  Mr. 
Jone«,  Junior,  staggered  up  and  touched  his  wet  shoulder. 

"Bad  business,  gov'nor!"  he  said.  "Gov'ment  property.  A 
matter  of  two  pound  smashed.  Have  to  get  a  man  from  Milford. 
Another  pound !" 

"Here  is  a  five-pound  note,"  answered  Daltman.     "It  is  rather 


230  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

damp.  You  will  have  to  dry  it.  I  shall  be  back  here,  and  will  see 
that  you  are  satisfied.  Did  you  know  the  men  who  left  the  lady 
here?" 

"Perfect  strangers!"  replied  Mr.  Jones.  "I  say,  gov'nor,  how 
the  devil  did  the  old  'un — I  mean  dad — you  know — him  that  tossed 
you  over — how  did  he  get  mixed  up  in  this  here " 

"  How  do  I  know !"  said  Daltman,  angrily.  "  Cast  off  there  ! 
Give  way,  men,  and  get  the  lady  on  board  the  yacht." 

It  was  three  o'clock  when  Haidee  landed  at  Milford.  No  cabs  in 
attendance  at  that  hour,  so  Daltman  escorted  her  to  the  hotel.  She 
clung  to  him,  the  heroism  that  had  sustained  her  so  many  weary 
hours  deserting  her  now  that  she  was  in  positive  safety.  She  was 
filled  with  a  nameless  dread,  and  Daltman  seemed  like  a  guardian 
angel.  The  tide  would  not  serve  for  six  hours,  and  the  yacht  could 
not  enter  the  Avon.  So  he  assured  her,  and  she  reluctantly  con- 
sented to  go  to  her  chamber  and  wait  for  daylight.  The  sleepy 
chambermaid  gladly  accepted  her  proposal  to  lock  the  doors  and  to 
sleep  in  the  anteroom  within  call.  And  the  worn-out  maiden  ob- 
tained three  or  four  hours'  sleep,  waking  with  the  dawn,  restored  to 
her  ordinary  vigour.  She  dressed  rapidly  and  then  wakened  her 
attendant. 

"What  is  your  name?"  she  asked,  while  the  girl  bored  her  eyes 
out  with  her  knuckles. 

"  Lucy,  miss." 

"  Lucy,  are  you  awake  ?" 

"Yes,  miss." 

"AVell,  I  want  some  tea  and  toast.     How  soon  can  I  get  them?" 

"  In  five  minutes,  miss.     I'll  go  order  them." 

"  Go,  then,  and  return  immediately.     And  bring  me  a  time-table." 

"Beg  pardon,  miss — what  kind  o'  table?" 

"  The  book  that  tells  about  trains  and  steamboats.  I  wish  to  find 
out  how  I  can  get  to  Clifton." 

"  Oh  !  Don't  want  a  book,  miss.  My  mother  lives  in  Clifton, 
and  I  know  all  about  it.  The  boat  leaves  for  Mendon  at  a  quarter 
after  seven.  There  it  sometimes  waits  for  the  tide.  But  there  is  a 
train  for  Clifton  that  leaves  Mendon  as  soon  as  the  boat  gets  there, 
miss." 

"  Then  we  can  go !"  said  Haidee,  joyfully;  "  you  can  go  with  me  ?" 

"  Don't  know,  miss.     I'll  ask  the  master." 

"  Send  him  to  me.  Run !  It  is  seven  o'clock  now !  Never 
mind  the  tea." 


TUE  RESCUE.  231 

A  sovereign  in  addition  to  the  cliarge  for  lodging  bought  Lucy's 
atteiidaiu-e  for  the  day,  and  when  Mr.  Daltnian  was  leisurely  dressing 
for  break fiust,  the  "  Prince  of  Wales"  was  steaming  out  the  harbour 
with  Haidee  and  her  new  maid  on  board.  Mr.  Daltnian  sent  his 
card  to  Miss  Mordaunt's  room,  and  received  in  exchange  the  fol- 
lowing little  note: 

"Dear  Mr.  Daltman — I  have  just  learned  that  the  'Prince  of 
Wales'  will  sail  for  Mendon  in  fifteen  minutes.  As  she  is  a  steamer, 
she  will  go  so  much  faster  than  your  yacht,  and  I  can  get  to  Clifton 
by  rail.  I  know  the  route,  and  have  engaged  a  maid  to  accomi)any 
me.  I  can  take  luncheon  with  papa  to-day  !  I  am  quite  well  and 
filled  with  joy,  thanks  to  your  kind  attention. 

"Haidee  Mordaunt. 

"  P.  S. — I  hope  you  did  not  take  cold." 

The  remarks  that  fell  from  Mr.  Daltman's  lips  when  he  mastered 
the  contents  of  this  epistle  made  the  attentive  waiter's  flesh  creep. 
He  mentioned  the  "  Prince  of  Wales,"  the  hotel,  the  yacht,  the  tide, 
and  various  other  objects  with  an  objurgatory  prefix,  and  with  heart- 
felt emphasis.     Then  he  ordered  breakfast. 

His  cockswain  waited  upon  him  at  eight  o'clock  by  appointment. 
There  was  some  solace  in  the  thought  that  Mr.  Jones  was  within 
reach.  He  would  at  least  give  the  old  wretch  full  payment  for  his 
assault  of  the  previous  night.  The  cockswain  led  the  way  to  the 
Jones  mansion,  near  the  pier.  They  were  admitted  by  Mr.  Flellen, 
the  second-story  lodger,  who  informed  the  sailor  that  his  landlord 
had  passed  a  terrible  night.  They  found  Mr.  Jones  upon  his  cot, 
with  a  medical  man  in  attendance. 

"What  ails  the  old  marauder?"  said  Daltman,  rudely,  after  a 
glance  at  the  sick  man. 

"  Threatened  with  mania-a-potu,"  answered  the  doctor. 

"  When  did  it  begin  to  threaten  ?"  said  Daltman,  sarcastically, 
while  the  cockswain  examined  the  oilskin  coat  and  hat,  hanging 
against  the  wall. 

"  I  was  called  at  midnight  exactly,"  answered  the  doctor.  "  Flel- 
len came  for  me,  saying  the  old  man  was  mad.  I  found  him  in  a 
very  precarious  condition  demanding  prompt  treatment.  I  have 
been  exhibiting  spintus  Mindererus  with  very  satisfactory  results  ! 
He  is  mending.  I  do  not  apprehend  another  ])aroxysm.  Probably 
I  shall  administer  some  stimulant  later  in  the  day." 


232  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Why,  I  saw  this  man  sailing  out  into  the  channel  at  midnight !" 
said  Daltman. 

"  And  I  saw  him,  too  !"  added  the  cockswain.  The  doctor  shook 
his  head  with  an  incredulous  smile. 

"Sorry  to  contradict  you,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  "but  you  are 
certainly  mistaken.  Here,  Flellen  !  "What  time  was  it  when  I  came 
last  night?" 

"  Twelve !"  answered  the  other,  in  good  "Welsh. 

"  And  I  have  not  been  out  of  this  room  since,"  said  the  doctor. 

"And  did  he  have  this  coat  and  hat  on?"  asked  the  cockswain, 
derisively,  touching  the  yellow  garments. 

"  No.  Those  belong  to  a  sailor  friend,  I  suppose.  He  came  in 
between  two  and  three  o'clock,  and  hung  the  coat  on  that  hook.  I 
saw  him  do  it !  There  can  be  no  mistake  about  it,"  he  continued, 
with  professional  dignity.  "  The  man  left  a  sovereign  with  me,  and 
here  it  is !     It  was  to  pay  me  for  medical  attendance." 

"  There  is  some  mystery  about  this  business,  Blain,"  said  Mr. 
Daltman,  as  he  and  the  cockswain  walked  down  the  pier.  "  Do  you 
think  that  doctor  fellow  was  lymg?" 

"  It  is  Doctor  Rice,"  said  the  cockswain ;  "  I  cannot  think  he  would 
be  up  to  any  trick." 

"  It  was  that  coat  that  threw  me  overboard  !"  said  Daltman, 
"  Who  the  devil  is  the  sailor  friend  ?     Where  is  he?" 

The  sailor  friend  was  seated  in  the  forecastle  of  the  "  Prince  of 
Wales"  at  that  precise  moment,  watching  Haidee  Mordauut  prome- 
nading the  deck,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  maid. 

A  one-armed  Hindoo  was  coiled  up  on  the  deck  at  his  feet,  fast 
asleep. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 
The  Arrest. 

MR.  HYLAND  RAYNEFORD  sat  in  moody  silence  on  the 
forward  deck  of  the  "  Prince  of  Wales,"  his  broad-brimmed 
felt  hat  pulled  down  over  his  brow.  Haidee  was  in  sight,  on  the 
after  part  of  the  vessel,  sometimes  promenading  the  deck,  and  some- 
times seated  on  the  long  bench  against  the  bulwarks,  but  always 
closely  attended  by  her  maid.     Zeba  had  drawn  his  cloak  over  his 


THE  ARREST.  233 

head  and  shoulders  as  soon  as  he  saw  Haidee  on  board,  and,  drop- 
ping down  on  tlie  deck,  propped  himself  aj^aiiist  the  ca|)stiui  and  fell 
asleep.  He  and  Hyland  had  watched  the  hotel  at  Milford  during 
the  time  that  Haidee  slept,  walking  along  the  solitary  street  and 
subsisting  upon  the  fumes  of  cheroots.  As  soon  as  daylight  re- 
turneil,  and  the  streets  became  populatetl,  Zeba  mounted  guard 
oi)posite  the  main  entrance  wiiile  Hyland  obtained  his  breakfast. 
Then  Hyland  took  his  place,  having  ordered  chops  and  tea  for  the 
Hindoo.  They  were  close  behind  Haidee  and  her  maid  when 
they  boarded  the  steamer,  and,  finding  Daltman  did  not  appear, 
Mr.  Rayneford  betook  himself  to  the  forecastle,  where  smoke  was 
legal. 

While  he  sat  there  he  reviewed  the  course  of  events,  and  once  he 
half  started  to  accost  the  maiden  when  she  came  up  the  stairs  from 
the  dining-cabin.  But  Haidee  had  clutched  the  arm  of  her  maid 
and  withdrawn  from  the  little  group  of  passengers,  and  a  fit  of  shy- 
ness came  over  Rayneford,  and  he  resumed  his  seat.  It  was  not  at 
all  necessary  to  offer  assistance  or  escort,  and  the  offer  would  have  a 
second-hand  appearance.  Why  did  Daltman  send  her  without  him? 
AVhy  did  she  fly  to  Daltman  last  night  M'hen  he  had  broken  her 
prison  open?  Common  sense  answered.  Daltman  had  a  sea-going 
vessel,  with  all  appliances  of  comfort  and  safety,  while  he  had  only 
an  old  fishing-boat.  And  she  did  not  know  him.  Ah  !  when  he 
took  her  hand  in  his  and  led  her  down  to  the  boat  he  was  dumb ! 

If  he  had  spoken Well — she  would  still  have  gone   with 

Daltman  !     This  was  his  conclusion. 

At  the  same  instant  Haidee  was  reviewing.  How  did  Daltman 
find  out  her  hiding-place?  And  Zeba?  Zeba  must  have  told  Dalt- 
man. But  Zeba  came  to  England  with  the  Lord  of  the  tulwar. 
Surely  he  did  not  give  that  title  to  Daltman  !  Did  Sir  Hyland  send 
Zeba  with  that  old  sailor?  It  must  have  been,  because  Daltman 
assaulted  them  and  was  thrown  into  the  sea  by  the  sailor.  She  saw 
that.  Where  was  Sir  Hyland?  Perhaps  on  Clifton  Downs,  and 
she  was  going  there!  What  had  become  of  Zeba?  She  saw  his 
lithe  figure  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  as  it  drifted  away,  while  the  old 
sailor  was  fumbling  with  the  mainsheet  amidships ;  and  she  had 
previously  seen  the  sweep  of  Zeba's  sword  as  it  cut  through  the  staflP 
of  the  boat-hook.     It  was  very  mysterious ! 

By-the-bye!  It  could  not  have  been  an  accidental  encounter  out 
on  the  river  when  she  was  wakened  by  Zeba's  song!  Zeba  must 
have  known  she  was  there !     Therefore  Zeba  must  have  had  some 


234  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

part  in  the  outrageous  abduction  !  Now  whom  did  he  sen^e  ?  Sir 
Hyland,  of  course !  Would  he  be  guilty  of  such  a  crime  !  Never ! 
Never ! 

"  Talk  to  me,  Lucy,"  she  said,  desperately,  "  or  I  shall  go  mad ! 
Tell  me  about  Clifton — your  mother,  where  does  she  live?  Have 
you  any  sisters  or  brothers  ?" 

This  opened  the  sluice-gates,  and  a  torrent  flowed.  Lucy  did  not 
pause,  except  to  draw  breath,  until  the  "  Prince  of  Wales"  reached 
Mendon. 

At  Mendon,  Hyland  watched  as  she  went  ashore,  saw  her  pause  at 
the  telegraph-office,  rush  in  and  write  a  message,  pay  a  shilling; 
heard  the  operator  read  the  message  aloud  :  "  From  Plaidee  Mor- 
daunt  to  Doctor  Leigh,  St.  Vincent's  Hotel,  Clifton,  Bristol.  Safe 
and  well.  AVill  reach  Clifton  at  eleven  o'clock."  Then  he  drew 
back  against  the  wall  as  she  passed  out  and  entered  the  station. 
Saw  her  get  into  a  railway  carriage  with  Lucy.  So  he  and  Zeba 
took  seats  in  the  next  carriage,  and  the  train  started  for  Clifton. 

Along  the  river-bank,  sometimes  through  tunnels,  sometimes  skim- 
ming over  long  stretches  of  coast,  river  on  the  right  and  rocks  on 
the  left,  until  they  passed  the  spot  where  the  "  Ariadne"  had  anchored. 
The  high  bridge  was  in  sight  now,  then  the  dark  tunnel,  and  then 
slowing  down  as  the  train  slipped  into  the  Clifton  station,  and  the 
guard  unlocked  the  doors. 

Doctor  Leigh  and  Glendare  catching  Haidee's  hands  as  she 
descended.  A  torrent  of  questions,  of  course,  and  a  torrent  of  tears 
for  answer.  Then  the  two  men  take  her  between  them  and  start  for 
the  Zigzag,  Lucy  meekly  following.  And  Hyland  and  Zeba  crawl 
out  of  their  carriage  and  turn  their  backs  on  the  party.  Safe  now, 
certainly.     No  further  need  for  watching. 

There  is  a  rude  stairway  nearer  the  bridge,  partly  cut  in  the  cliff 
and  partly  builded  of  timbers,  and  Hyland  and  the  Hindoo  climb 
that.  A  few  steps  to  the  Downs ;  they  pass  the  Observatory,  and 
sit  down  under  a  tree. 

"  Zeba,  my  friend,"  said  Hyland,  "  we  have  not  yet  found  my 
brother." 

"  Sahib's  brother  west,"  replied  the  Hindoo,  sweeping  his  arm  in 
that  direction. 

"How  long  shall  we  look  in  that  quarter?"  asked  Hyland, 
incredulously.  . 

"  Until  find,"  answered  Zeba,  steadily.  "  Ask  tulwar  at  Calcutta. 
Ask  tulwar  on  the  sea.     Ask  tulwar  at  sahib's  bungalow.     Ask 


THE  ARREST.  235 

tulwar  at  Milford.    Tulwar  say  west,  Avest,  west,  west !    Four  times 
tulwar  answer." 

"  Suppose  it  had  happened  to  chano;e " 

"Xo  happen!"  interrupted  the  Hindoo,  with  dignity.  "Sahib 
know  law  of  happen  !  If  happen  two  times,  then  tulwar  kill  thirty- 
one  other  happens.  If  happen  three  times,  then  tulwar  kill  many 
thousand  other  happens.  If  happen  four  times,  then  tulwar  kill 
more  otiier  happens  than  all  the  stars  in  the  sky— all  the  drops  of 
water  in  the  sea." 

Ilyland  was  stunned  by  this  unexpected  rejoinder.  He  had,  in 
previous  intercourse  with  Zeba,  been  frequently  astonished  by  the 
display  of  unusual  mathematical  knowledge,  sometimes  by  the  na- 
tive's rapid  mental  solution  of  abstruse  problems,  which  solution  he 
afterwarils  verified  by  elaborate  processes.  Given,  the  accuracy 
of  the  tulwar's  responses— Hyland  felt  that  Zeba's  argument  was 
unanswerable  on  any  scientific  hypothesis. 

"Tulwar  find  Beebe,"  continued  Zeba. 

"  Yes,"  muttered  Hyland,  discontentedly  ;  "  and  a  devil  of  a  mess 
it  made  of  it !" 

"  When  tulwar  chop  enemy  down,"  continued  the  Hindoo,  "enemy 
live  two,  three  hours.  Tulwar  only  chop  once.  But  not  done  till 
enemy  die." 

Hyland   felt  his  heart  bound  at  this  suggestion,  but  remained 

silent. 

"  Beebe  safe,"  said  Zeba,  meditatively ;  "  but  end  not  yet !  Tulwar 
find  Beebe  because  Lord  Hyland  look  for  her.  Tulwar  find  Beebe 
eleven  o'clock  two  nights  gone.     When  did  sahib  first  want  find?" 

Stunned  again  !  Hvland  remembered  that  it  was  eleven  o'clock 
when  he  discovered  Haiilee's  identity  with  the  maiden  on  Clifton 
Downs,  in  the  billiard-room  at  Bath. 

"By  this  light!"  said  Hyland,  "this  beats  ordinary  necromancy. 
Tell  me,  Zeba,  has  the  tulwar  ever  revealed  other  things  to  you?" 

"  Many  times,"  replied  Zeba,  readily.  "  Tulwar  tell  sahib  coming 
from  the' frost-hills.  So  Zeba  wait.  Not  sail  with  Colonel  Sahib. 
Tulwar  tell  sahib  at  Clifton,  two  days  ago.     Not  point  west  then." 

"  I'll  hear  no  more  of  this  awful  rubbish  !"  said  Hyland,  in  a  rage. 
"  My  friend,  I  will  follow  you  !  The  west  is  as  full  of  promise  as 
any  other  direction.     I  will  humour  you  and  go." 

"Sahib  always  wise!"  answered  Zeba,  courteously. 

"  Now  to  go  to  Doctor  Leigh.  Learn  what  you  can.  ^Nliss  Mor- 
daunt  saw  you,  and  knew  you.     She  will  ask  you  many  questions. 


236  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  tell  her  who  was  with  you.  Probably  she  will 
not  enquire." 

"  Zeba  has  no  tongue." 

"I  do  not  mean  that  exactly,"  said  Hyland,  "and  I  put  no  re- 
strictions upon  you.  You  are  wise  enough  to  answer  discreetly. 
Anyhow,  it  is  great  folly  to  be  sensitive  because  I  attempted  to  res- 
cue her  and — failed." 

"  Sahib  not  failed.    Enemy  struck.    Not  yet  dead.    Only  dying  !" 

Once  more  Hyland  noted  the  bound  of  his  heart,  which  he  sternly 
repressed  on  the  instant.  At  the  same  time  he  was  touched  by  the 
evident  devotion  of  the  Hindoo. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  Zeba,"  he  said,  stretching  out  his  own ; 
"you  are  a  brave  gentleman,  and  I  am  proud  to  Ciill  you  friend.  It 
may  be  that  we  can  discover  the  actors  in  this  outrage.  If  we  do, 
let  us  be  discreet." 

"Sahib  want?     Tulwar  find,"  said  Zeba,  as  he  left. 

Hyland  arose,  and  passing  the  Observatory,  crossed  the  bridge, 
and  reached  the  cottage  of  Mrs.  Noils.  His  first  visit  was  to 
Tommy,  who  was  sleek  and  comfortable.  Then  he  entered  the 
house,  and  after  a  luxurious  bath,  dressed  with  more  care  than  usual. 
His  lu(yo;ao|;e  had  been  sent  from  London  durino;  his  absence,  and  he 
had  a  choice  of  habiliments.  It  was  possible  that  Zeba  might  bring 
a  message  from — Dr.  Leigh  or  Mr.  Glendare,  that  would  make  it 
proper  for  him  to  call  on  them.  He  was  hungering  for  some  slight 
intercourse  with  his  Indian  friends.  He  would  give  fifty  pounds 
just  to  hear  Haidee  talk.  Then  he  went  into  his  dark  closet  to 
inspect  his  pictures.     He  missed  some  of  them. 

"Mrs.  Noils,"  he  said,  coming  into  his  sitting-room,  "somebody 
has  removed  some  pictures  from  the  bath.     I  left  them  last  night." 

"  Nobody  has  been  there,"  said  Mrs.  Noils,  "  except  the  gentle- 
man you  sent  back.     He  went  in  there  for  the  paper  you  left." 

"  Ah  !"  replied  Hyland.     "  ^yheu  did  he  come  ?" 

"  As  soon  as  you  went  away  last  night,  sir.  He  said  you  had 
sent  him  back  for  a  paper,  and  he  took  my  lamp  and  hunted  around 
this  room,  your  bedroom  and  the  closet.  He  was  here  about  ten 
minutes." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Hyland.     "  What  was  he  like  ?" 

"  An  ugly  little  man,  sir,  with  red  eyes.  There  he  is  !  That  is 
the  same  man  out  there  under  the  tree." 

Hyland  looked  through  the  window  and  investigated  Mr.  Dancer. 
Although  not  very  attractive  in  appearance,  Hyland  desired  a  closer 


THE  ARREST.  237 

view;  so  lie  put  on  liis  hat  aiul  walked  out  and  across  the  road, 
where  the  deteetivc  was  standinji;. 

"  Mrs.  Noils  tells  nie,"  lie  s:iid,  with  cold  composure,  "  that  you 
searched  my  apartments  last  night.     Who  sent  you,  and  for  what?" 

"  Oh  !"  said  ]Mr.  Dancer,  politely,  "  excuse  me,  sir.  Mr.  Robin- 
son ?" 

"  What  ditl  you  seek  in  my  rooms?"  said  Hyland,  sternly. 

**  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Dancer,  "  but  you  iiad  better  come 
up  on  the  jnith.     Cab  coming.     Hi,  Tom  !     Stop!" 

The  cab  stopped,  and  a  man  who  was  seated  by  the  driver  slid 
down  from  his  perch. 

"All  right,  Tom!"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  "this  is  the  gent!  Now, 
Mr.  Robinson,  if  you  please,  I  want  you." 

"  What  ilo  you  mean,  you  insolent  scoundrel?"  replied  Hyland. 

"  Better  go  slow,"  said  the  detective,  menacingly.  "  Of  course  you 
cawn't  understand  !  Not  much  !  But  I  want  you  all  the  same.  I 
have  a  warrant  for  you.  D'ye  want  to  see  it?  Of  course!  Well, 
I'm  an  officer  of  the  law,  and  I  want  you  on  two  or  three  accounts. 
Do  you  happen  to  know  Lord  Rayneford  ?     Ah  !" 

"  What  of  him?     Speak,  man  !     Has  anything  happened " 

"  Better  go  dark  now,  young  man,"  said  the  detective,  impress- 
ively. "Don't  be  fool  enough  to  criminate  yourself.  You're 
wanted ;  that's  enough.  You  never  saw  ]\Iiss  Haidee  Mordaunt,  I 
s'pose?  Ah!  troubled  again!  Now,  take  your  choice" — and  he 
exhibited  a  pair  of  handcuffs — "  have  these  on,  and  walk  in  town 
with  me,  or  get  into  the  cab  with  me  and  Tom,  and  we  can  ride 
in." 

Hyland  reflected  a  moment. 

"Suppose  this  is  an  absurd  mistake  of  yours?"  he  said,  coolly. 
"  I  am  not  going  to  resist  lawful  authority,  but  what  redress  should 
I  have  if  you  have  blundered  in  this  matter?" 

"  Here  is  the  warrant,"  replied  the  officer,  exhibiting  the  paper. 
"  It  orders  me  to  take  the  body  of  John  Robinson,  Photographer." 

"  And  sup|)ose  I  am  not  John  Robinson,  but  a  gentleman " 

"  I'll  have  to  take  the  risk,"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  a  little  staggered. 
"  Mayhap  it's  a  blunder,  as  you  call  it.  If  you  are  not  a  gentleman 
you  are  a  cool  hand.  But  appearances  are  against  you.  Get  in  the 
cab.     Help  him  in,  Tom." 

"I  require  no  a.ssistance,  thank  you,"  said  Hyland.  "Do  not 
touch  me,  if  you  please.  There!  You  and  your  friend  will  please 
occupy  the  front  seat." 


238  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

As  the  cab  rolled  across  the  bridge,  Hyland  decided  upon  his 
course. 

"  There  are  two  questions  which  you  may  answer,"  said  he. 
"  First :  about  Lord  Rayneford.  Do  you  hnow  of  any  harm  that  has 
befallen  him?  Do  not  hesitate,  man!  I  know  he  has  beeu  miss- 
ing, and  Mr.  Plimpton  told  me  he  had  set  you  on  his  track.  Have 
you  any  information  about  him?" 

"  I  fancy  I  don't  know  any  more  than  yoxL  know,"  replied  Mr. 
Dancer,  with  a  grin.  "  I  found  a  pockmantle  in  your  room  marked 
*  Rayneford.' " 

"Ah!     Then  that  is  all?" 

"  That  is  all  I  have  to  say,"  replied  the  officer. 

"Question  second.  Was  the  paper  you  sought  in  my  rooms — a 
picture,  for  instance?" 

"  I  found  a  picture  or  two,"  replied  Mr.  Dancer. 

"Then  will  you  have  the  kindness  to  preserve  them  carefully? 
I  shall  want  them.     That  is  all.     Where  are  we  going?" 

"  To  the  lock-up  at  the  Town  Hall." 

"  I  suppose  I  can  have  a  room — for  a  price — until  the  authorities 
discover  your  mistake  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  !"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  airily.  "  Hope  you  won't  get 
tired  waiting  for  that.  Well,  you  are  a  cool  hand,  and  no  mistake ! 
I've  made  many  a  haul  where  coves  carried  a  high  hand,  but  you 
bang  them  all.  It  is  good  as  a  book  to  listen  to  you.  If  I  didn't 
know  better,  I'd  think  you  was  His  Royal  Highness.  But  then 
I've  .seen  His  Royal  Highness,  and  you  ar'n't  a  bit  like  him.  What 
are  you  laughing  at  ?" 

"  What  an  enormous  ass  you  are,  Mr.  Dancer !"  replied  the  pris- 
oner. "  I  am  laughing  to  think  how  Mr.  Plimpton  will  look  when 
I  tell  him " 

"  Well,"  said  the  detective,  "  that's  lucky  I  Mr.  Plimpton  is  in 
Clifton  now." 


CROSS-EXAMINED.  239 

CHAPTER    XL. 
Cross-Examined. 

ZEBA  entered  the  spacious  hall  of  St.  Vincent's  Hotel,  arrested 
a  living  waiter,  and  asked  for  Glendare. 

"  Gone  to  Batli.     Will  be  back  to-night,"  said  the  servant.. 

"  Doctor  Leigh  ?" 

"  Gone  to  Bristol." 

"Missee  Mordaunt?"  persisted  the  Hindoo. 

"  Ah  !  Cawn't  see  her.     She  is  very  tired,  and  is  in  her  room." 

"  Take  name.     Zeba.     I  wait." 

The  attendant  hesitated,  glancing  doubtfully  at  the  foreigner. 
Zeba's  make-up  was  not  artistic.  The  old  camlet  cloak  was  weather- 
stained  and  ftided.  His  shoes  were  dusty.  His  one  eye  had  a  fero- 
cious gleam,  though  his  manner  was  highly  polished. 

"  Better  take  name !"  he  said.     "  Write  on  card  Zeba.     I  wait." 

The  waiter  departed,  and  in  two  minutes  came  down  the  stairway 
three  steps  at  a  time. 

"  Walk  up,  sir,  please  !"  he  said.  "  Miss  Mordaunt  will  see  you 
immediately.     I'll  show  you  her  parlour.     This  way,  sir." 

A  volley  of  Hindoostanee  came  through  the  doorway  when  Lucy 
opened  at  the  modest  knock  of  the  servant.  Haidee  was  reclining 
on  a  sofa  near  the  window. 

"  Salaam,  Beebe  !"  said  Zeba. 

"Come  here,  Zeba!"  replied  Haidee,  relapsing  into  English. 
"  Shake  hands  and  sit  down  there,"  pointing  to  a  stool  at  the  foot  of 
the  sofa. 

"Zeba  stand!"  said  Zeba,  touching  her  extended  hand,  bowing 
profoundly. 

"  Sit  down  !  "stormed  Haidee,  going  back  to  Hindoostanee,  "  and 
tell  me  everything  that  has  happened  since  we  left  you  in  Cal- 
cutta." 

The  hotel-waiter  retired  stunned.  The  horrible  gibberish  sounded 
more  horrible  by  reason  of  the  musical  voice  of  the  sjieaker.  Lucy 
returned  to  her  seat  equally  astounded.  Zeba  dropped  his  camlet 
and  hat  on  the  floor,  tucked  his  long  sword  under  his  arm,  and 
obediently  squatted  on  the  low  stool  indicated. 

"  My  lady  asks  too  many  questions  at  once,"  said  the  Hindoo,  in 
his  native  language.  "  I  waited  in  Calcutta  for  the  Lord  Hyland. 
Then  we  sailed  many  days  on  the  sea.    When  we  landed  I  began  to 


240  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

look  for  Lord  Hyland's  brother.  Found  him  not.  But  found  my 
little  lady." 

"  And  you  told  Mr.  Daltman  ?"  said  Haidee. 

"No.  I  have  not  spoken  to  Sahib  Daltman  since  he  left 
Calcutta." 

"  Did  you  know  I  had  been  seized  and  carried  away  ?" 

"No.  Tulwar  knew.  I  did  not  know  my  little  lady  was  in  the 
ship.  But  tulwar  bade  me  sing  when  the  ship  passed.  And  my 
little  lady  answered.     Then  I  knew." 

"  And  do  you  not  know  who  carried  me  away  ?"  said  Haidee, 
watching  him  keenly. 

The  Hindoo  deliberated.  "  Will  find,  and  tell  another  day,"  he 
said. 

"  Do  you  not  know  now  ?" 

There  was  another  pause.  "  Little  lady  will  wait,"  he  said.  "  I 
do  not  know.     I  only  think.     When  I  know  I  will  tell." 

"And  how  did  you  find  me?" 

"Tulwar  said,  Go  to  Linton  Sands,"  replied  Zeba. 

"  But  it  could  not  say  Linton  Sands !"  said  Haidee,  positively. 
Zeba  drew  a  map  from  his  pouch  and  spt-ead  it  open  on  his  knee. 

"  Here  is  Lord  Hyland's  bungalow,"  he  said,  putting  his  finger 
on  the  locality.  "I  asked  tuhvar  there.  When  the  answer  came, 
I  drew  this  line.  It  goes  through  Milford  to  Linton  Sands,  and  the 
sea  is  beyond.  AVhen  at  Milford  I  had  heard  Beebe  sing  back  to 
me,  and  I  asked  again.  It  said  Linton  Sands.  Then  I  saw  Beebe 
through  the  window.  Could  not  kill  light-house  man  Jones,  because 
his  father  fed  me.  Could  not  get  Beebe  without  killing  Jones. 
Then  went  back  for — my  friend." 

"  Well  ?"  said  Haidee,  with  glowing  eyes. 

"Find  friend,"  said  Zeba,  in  English,  and  choosing  his  words 
carefully.  "  He  was  not  home,  and  had  wait.  When  find,  night 
come.     Tell  friend  I  had  Beebe  in  prison,  and  want  help." 

"  And  your  friend's  name  ?  What  is  he  called  ?  Where  does  he 
"live?" 

"Name?"  answered  the  Hindoo.  "Is called  Mr.  Robinson.  Live? 
Anywhere !  He  sometimes  here,  sometimes  there.  Find  him  with 
tulwar." 

"  Go  on." 

"  Friend  go  with  me.  Get  boat,  get  axe.  To  Linton  Sands  sail. 
Break  down  window.     Get  Bebee,  and " 

"  What  next  ?"  said  Haidee,  impatiently,  as  the  Hindoo  hesitated. 


CROSS-EXAMINED.  241 

"Siiliib  Daltman  come.  I  U'll  Sahib  Robinson  take  axe.  I  take 
tulwar  aiul  we  take  BeC'be.  But  Beebe  call  Sahib  Daltiuan,  and 
friend  s:iy,  'Come  away.  Be6be  safe.'  Then  Sahib  Daltman 
come  in  boat.  Friend  put  him  in  sea.  I  cut  hook,  and  boat  sail 
home." 

"  Home  ?"  said  Haidee.     "  Do  you  mean  Clifton  ?" 

"  No.  jNIilford.  Sailor  man  Jones  come  in  *  Bengal'  ship.  Good 
friend,  too.  Live  in  JNIilford.  liorrow  Jones  boat.  Borrow  yellow 
coat.  Take  boat  back,  and  watch  for  Sahib  Daltman  ship.  When 
ship  come,  see  Beebe  go  in  house.  Watch  house  all  night.  See 
Beebe  get  on  ship.  Get  on,  too.  See  Beebe  on  train.  Get  on,  too. 
See  Beebe  with  Doctor  Sahib.     Then  done.     That  all !" 

"  And  you  left  your  friend  at  Milford  ?"  said  Haidee,  very  care- 
lessly. 

"  No.     Friend  come  too." 

"  Ah  !     He  lives  here,  then  ?" 

"  Live  anywhere,  everywhere.    Have  horse.    Drive  about  country." 

"  Bring  him  here  !"  said  Haidee.     "  I  wish  to  thank  him." 

"  Not  come !"  answered  Zeba  :  "  going  away." 

Haidee  mused,  while  Zeba  waited.  Then  she  took  out  her  purse, 
ostentatiously. 

"  Beebe  not  pay  rupee,"  said  Zeba,  rising.  "  She  take  magic  from 
tulwar !" 

" But  it  is  not  for  you"  she  answered.  "  Sit  down  !"  And  she 
took  out  some  coins. 

''Beebe  not  send  money!"  said  Zeba.  "A  thousand  lacs  too 
little !" 

"  The  money  is  for  my  maid,"  said  Haidee.  "  Here,  Lucy.  I 
may  forget  it  when  Sista  comes.  This  is  for  yourself."  Then  turning 
suddenly  upon  Zeba,  she  opened  the  cross-examination  in  Hindoo- 
stance. 

"  How  did  the  tulwar  find  me,  when  you  were  looking  for  Lord 
Rayneford  ?" 

"Little  lady  will  not  understand  Indian  magic,"  replied  Zeba, 
evasively. 

"Yes.  And  I  know  the  Indian  noble  speaks  always  truth  in 
Hindoostanee.     Answer !" 

"  Tulwar  in  magic  must  serve  Lord  of  tulwar.  When  Beebe  was 
near,  tulwar  made  me  sing.     I  did  not  think  of  Be6be." 

"  Then  it  told  you,  because  you  were  its  lord  ?" 
Zeba  glanced  at  her,  uneasily.     She  was  propped  up  with  pillows 

16 


242  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

in  a  corner  of  the  sofa.     Her  eyes  were  half  closed,  and  she  looked 
so  innocent  that  Zeba  was  reassured. 

"  Tulwar  serve  tulwar's  lord/'  began  Zeba  in  fair  English. 

"  Hindoostanee !"  said  Haidee,  opening  her  eyes,  and  glancing  at 
Lucy. 

"  The  tulwar  has  no  lord  until  warrior  gains  the  lordship  !"  con- 
tinued Zeba  in  his  own  language.  "  I  have  fought  with  it  in  many 
battles,  and  have  killed  many  times." 

"  And  so  became  Lord  of  the  tulwar?"  observed  Haidee,  when  he 
paused. 

"The  lordship  cannot  be  gained  in  battles,"  said  Zeba;  "too 
many  helpers.  It  must  be  won  with  naked  hand,  without  defensive 
armour,  and  the  blood  of  the  lord  must  mingle  with  the  blood  of  his 
foe  on  the  blade.  No  other  hand  must  help.  He  who  would  rule 
the  tulwar  nmst  stand  alone  and  defy  death  !  If  his  breast  is  iron, 
he  will  win.     If  he  tremble  once,  he  is  lost !     No  man  can  try  twice." 

"And  you  won  the  lordship  in  single  combat?"  asked  Haidee. 
quietly. 

"  I  fought  three  times  in  single  fight.  Once  at  Lahore,  but  my 
enemy  was  shot  before  I  conquered.  Then  in  the  jungle,  when  I 
carried  Beebe  to  Colonel  Sahib,  I  killed  Sepoy  scout.  But  I  had 
not  a  scratch  on  my  body.  Then  at  Cattaghur,  I  met  rebel  chief  on 
horseback.  He  gave  me  this" — and  he  showed  a  deep  scar  on  his 
neck — "and  I  killed  him.  When  he  fell  from  his  horse,  I  found  a 
bullet  in  his  side.  Some  stray  shot  had  struck  him,  and  the  victory 
was  not  all  mine." 

"Then  I  understand!"  said  Haidee:  "you  must  kill  a  man  in 
his  full  power,  without  aid  ?" 

"  Man  or "     He  hesitated. 

"  I  wait,"  said  Haidee,  patiently. 

"  Man  or  man-eater  !"  answered  Zeba,  sullenly. 

"  And  have  you  killed  a  man-eater  ?"  persisted  his  tormentor. 

"  No,  Hyland  Sahib  took  the  lordship  !  I  wear  the  tulwar,  but 
Hyland  Sahib  is  Lord  of  the  tulwar.  Lord  of  Zeba,  too !  If  I  ask 
tulwar  to  serve  me,  it  answers  not.  If  I  ask  for  Lord  Hyland,  it 
answers  always !" 

There  was  a  silence  of  several  minutes.  Zeba  was  wondering  if 
Beebe  had  gained  any  information.  Haidee  was  wondering  how 
she  could  draw  more  information  from  the  reluctant  Hindoo. 

"  Did  Mr.  llayneford  come  with  you  from  Calcutta?"  she  asked; 
"  I  mean  in  the  same  ship  ?" 


CROSS-EXAMINED.  243 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  you  go  with  him  to  his  bung-alow  ?" 

«  Yes." 

"And  left  him  there?" 

"  No.     Hyland  Sahib  went  to  London.     I  went  to  Linton  Sands." 

"At  Linton  Sands  you  found  me,"  said  Haidee,  reflecting;  "how 
many  days  have  you  been  in  England  ?" 

"  Twelve." 

"  How  many  times  at  Clifton?" 

"  Only  once  before.     Came  here  for  friend,  two  nights  ago." 

"  What  does  vour  friend — Mr.  Robinson,  you  called  him — what 
does  he  drive  about  the  country  for?" 

"  He  make  pictures  with  the  sun." 

"  Wiio  told  you  he  was  at  Clifton  ?"  said  Haidee,  suddenly. 

"Tulwar!"' 

"Zeba,  you  are  not  trying  to  enlighten  me!"  she  said,  severely. 
"You  said  but  now  the  tulwar  would  not  answer  you  !" 

She  thought  this  was  a  shot  between  the  eyes.  But  Zeba  answered 
compose<lly. 

"  I  asked  for  Hyland  Sahib.  I  knew  Hyland  Sahib  had  stood 
between  Beebe  and  the  man-eater.  I  knew  he  would  take  her 
from  Linton  Sands,  if  he  had  to  swim  over  the  sea  ;  and  tulwar 
must  serve  sahib.     So  tulwar  brought  me  to — Robinson." 

"And  Mr.  Robinson  does  not  desire  any  thanks?"  said  Haidee, 
with  flushed  cheeks.  "  I  should  not  have  known  he  sought  me  but 
for  you." 

"Robinson  say  he  do  nothing,"  responded  Zeba,  in  English;  in 
which  tongue  he  always  took  refuge  when  driven  into  a  corner. 

"Speak  in  Hindoostanee,"  said  Haidee.  "Did  Mr.  Robinson 
know  Mr.  Daltman  ?" 

"  Be6be  called  out  Daltman  Sahib,"  replied  the  Indian.  "  Then 
he  know." 

The  flush  deepened.  While  she  revolved  this  answer,  there  was 
a  knock  at  the  <loor,  and  a  card  presented. 

"  Mr.  Plimi)ton  !"  said  she.  "  Request  Mr.  Plimpton  to  walk 
up."  Zeba  threw  his  cloak  over  his  shoulders,  and  prepared  to 
retire. 

"  Please  wait,  Zeba,"  said  Haidee ;  ''  I  will  not  detain  you  long." 
And  Zeba  walked  over  to  the  jirojecting  window,  and  studied  the 
scenery  on  the  other  side  of  the  Avon.  Mr.  Plimpton,  rubbing  his 
hands  and  chuckling  audibly,  came  in. 


244  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Haidee !"  he  said,  shaking  hands,  "  welcome  back. 
I  have  good  news  for  you.     We've  got  him  !" 

"  Got  whom,  Mr.  Plimpton  ?     Sit  down." 

"  No  time !  Dancer  has  caught  your  abductor !  Got  him  safe  at 
the  Town  Hall.  He  is  a  swell,  and  is  ensconced  in  a  private  room. 
And  the  rascal  had  the  impudence  to  send  for  me  !" 

"Have  you  seen  him?"  said  Haidee. 

"Not  yet.  Thought  I  would  take  you  down  to  identify  him. 
Put  on  your  hat ;  it  is  a  short  distance,  and  I  have  a  cab.  Where 
is  Leigh  ?" 

"  In  Bristol." 

"  And  Glendare  ?" 

"  In  Bath.     He  went  to  tell  papa.     He  will  return  this  evening." 

"  Well,  come  along.     I'll  bring  you  back." 

"  Really,  Mr.  Plimpton,  I  am  not  well  enough  to  go  out  to-day. 
I  have  been  so  excited,  and  have  passed  through  such  strange  adven- 
tures, and  am  so  wearied,  that  Doctor  Leigh  says  I  must  keep  quiet 
until  to-morrow." 

"  But  I  want  you  to  identify  the  rascal." 

"  Which  I  cannot  do.  I  do  not  remember  what  the  man  was  like. 
He  is  a  sailor,  and  called  himself  Captain  Scroggs." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  he  has  a  dozen  aliases,  no  doubt.  At  present  he  calls 
himself  Robinson,  and  is  a  peripatetic  photographer.    What's  that  ?'' 

It  was  the  click  of  the  tulwar.  Zeba  had  drawn  it  a  little  way 
out  of  the  scabbard,  and  suffered  it  to  fall  back,  as  he  whisked 
through  the  open  door  and  disappeared. 

"  What  the  devil — excuse  me  !  What  was  that  ?"  said  Mr. 
Plimpton. 

"That  is  Zeba — a  soldier  in  papa's  regiment.  I  think  I  will  go 
with  you.     Can  Lucy  go  also — my  maid?" 

"  Certainly ;  cab  carries  four.  Come  on !  I  am  curious  to  see 
this  fellow  I  To  think  of  his  impudence !  His  compliments  to  Mr. 
•  Plimpton !     Are  you  ready  ?" 

"  Quite  ready,"  said  Haidee.  "  I  feel  some  curiosity  also.  Come, 
Lucy !" 


MR.  PLIMPTON.  245 

CHAPTER    XLI. 
Mr.  Plimi^ox. 

THE  cab  drew  up  at  the  Town  TTall,  ami  ^Fr.  Dancer  and  his  friend 
alighted,  loilowed  l)y  Mr.  Kobinson.  Tiiere  was  an  old  man 
at  a  grated  wicket,  who  inspected  a  j)aper  presented  by  Mr.  Dancer 
with  great  deliberation,  then  unlocked  the  wicket  and  admitted  the 
party. 

" Back  or  up?"  said  the  aged  warden. 

"Oh,  this  gent  wants  a  private  room,"  answered  ]\Ir.  Dancer. 
"Regular  swell,  you  know." 

"  Eive  shillin's  a  day,  in  advance,"  said  the  old  man,  after  a  glance 
at  the  prisoner.  ]\Ir.  Robinson  paid  the  money,  and  was  ushered 
up-stairs. 

"  iS'pose  I  ought  to  search  you,"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  who  followed 
him  into  the  room ;  "  but  don't  want  to  be  troublesome.  Got  any 
pistols  or  things?" 

"I  have  no  weapon  more  formidable  than  my  pocket-knife," 
answered  Hyland  ;  "do  you  want  that?" 

"  It's  no  consequence,  I  fancy,"  said  the  detective,  somewhat  sub- 
dued in  manner.     "Do  you  want  to  send  for  anybody?" 

"Certainly!  My  compliments  to  Mr.  Plimpton,  and  say  he  will 
please  come  soon  as  possible.  Here  is  money  for  the  messenger. 
Half  a  crown  is  enough.  Stay !  It  is  possible  that  a  friend  of 
mine  may  come.  He  is  a  Hindoo  with  one  arm.  Admit  him,  if 
you  please." 

"  All  right,  governor !"  said  Mr.  Dancer.  "  AVe  will  entertain 
him  too,  blast  his  black  skin  !  I  want  him.  Don't  say  nothing  to 
me.     Needn't  criminate  yourself!" 

"Get  out,  then,"  answered  Hyland,  "and  find  Mr.  Plimpton.  I 
must  leave  Clifton  to-night." 

Mr.  Dancer  withdrew  and  locked  the  door  on  the  outside ;  then, 
holding  the  key  in  his  hand,  he  addressed  some  remarks  to  it,  in  a 
low  tone. 

"If  you  get  a  cucumber,"  he  said,  "and  freeze  it  in  four  foot  of 
ice  all  round,  and  throw  a  peck  o'  salt  on  the  ice,  it's  my  oj)inion  the 
curuml)er  won't  be  as  cool  as  yon  chap!  Smash  me,  if  he.  don't 
take  the  conceit  all  out  of  me .'"  The  key  made  no  reply,  and  Mr. 
Dancer  walked  down-stairs,  depositing  the  key  with  the  warden. 
He  thought  he  might  as  well  earn  that    half-crown   himself;   so, 


246  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

leaving  directions  to  admit  Zeba  if  he  appeared,  he  started  off  in 

a  brisk  canter  for  Mr.  Plimpton. 

•  ... 

Hyland  looked  around  his  five-shilling  apartment.     There  were 

two  windows  looking  out  on  the  courtyard.  No  door  except  that 
by  which  he  had  entered.  The  windows  were  grated,  and  the  door 
was  substantial.  There  was  a  notice  on  the  wall :  "  Smoking  posi- 
tively prohibited."  So  Hyland  lighted  a  cigar,  drew  one  of  the  two 
chairs  to  the  window,  took  a  picture  from  his  breast-pocket  and 
studied  it  with  patient  scrutiny. 

"It  is  an  eminently  wise  face,"  he  murmured,  ''and  full  of 
candour.  It  is  strange  how  it  fascinates  me.  I  wonder  how  it 
looks  when  lit  up  by  smiles?  I  never  saw  the  child  smile.  Out 
yonder,  it  was  always  muffled  up,  and  I  never  saw  anything  but 
those  wonderful  eyes.  Poor  little  martyr,  how  I  pitied  her !  I 
used  to  think  what  a  crowning  mercy  it  would  be  if  the  child 
would  only  die.  And  now  she  has  emerged  from  martyrdom  and 
childhood  at  one  bound.  What  a  beautiful  face!  You  can  see 
truth  and  brave  confidence  in  every  line  of  it.  That  detective 
ass  carried  off  the  otiier  copy,  which  I  left  in  the  bath.  And  the 
negative  is  spoiled  by  my  clumsiness,  and  this  is  therefore  the  only 
copy  extant.  By  this  light !  there  is  not  enough  money  in  England 
to  buy  it ! 

"  It  is  strange,  too,  that  the  prediction  of  my  mad  friend.  Holly, 
should  have  faded  clean  away  when  I  took  this  picture.  If  I  had 
been  weak  enough  to  attach  importance  to  his  foolish  prophecy,  I 
could  not  have  selected  a  better  fate  than  this.  The  woman  does  not 
live  who  could  buy  this  bit  of  cardboard,  with  herself  and  her  for- 
tune. If  I  could  ever  entertain  matrimonial  intentions  at  all,  how 
easily  could  this  girl  take  me  captive !  Glendare  says  no  man  can 
lawfully  marry  until  he  has  found  the  only  woman  in  the  Avorld 
whom  he  could  love.  There  is  but  one,  he  says,  and  when  she  is 
found,  the  orderly  march  of  nature's  laws  and  the  stately  march 
of  Providence  will  do  the  rest ! 

"  Which  better  endures  the  test  of  logic?  Glendare's  philosophy 
or  Holly's  superstition?" 

Steps  on  the  stair,  and  then  along  the  corridor.  The  key  rattling 
in  the  lock.  He  returns  the  picture  to  his  pocket,  and  facing  around, 
meets  Zeba,  who  bows  profoundly. 

"  Salaam,  sahib !" 

"Smoking!"  said  the  turnkey,  sniffing  the  polluted  air;  "werry 
well !     That's  two  shilliu'  more.     That's  not  rent,  it's  a  fine !" 


MR.  PLIMPTON.  247 

"Here  is  the  florin,  friend,"  said  Hyland  ;  "now  get  out,  if  you 
please !" 

While  the  old  man  was  shutUing  down-stairs,  Zeba  walked  around 
the  room  and  examined  the  walls.     Then  he  drew  his  sword. 

"Will  sahib  take  tulwar,"  he  said,  politely,  "or  Zeba  cut  down 
door  ?" 

"  Neither,  my  friend,"  answered  Hyland,  laughing;  "  it  would  be 
a  difficult  task,  and  would  do  no  good  if  successful.  But  we  shall 
get  out  anon  without  fighting.     How  did  you  find  me?" 

"Sahib  never  fight  more?"  said  Zeba,  enquiringly.  "Sahib 
prisoner,  lock  up,  and  fight  not?  Sahib  travel  all  night  to  find 
Be6be,  and  sleep  not,  and  then  to  prison  come,  because  he  steal 
Be6be  !     And  no  fight !     Is  sahib  sick  ?" 

"Pretty  well,  thank  you,"  replied  Hyland,  "but  fighting  is  not 
the  wise  thing  to  do  now.  A  foolish  man  with  red  eyes  thought  I 
Mas  the  criminal,  and  he  obtained  legal  authority  to  arrest  me.  If 
I  had  killed  him,  all  the  world  would  pronounce  me  guilty.  If  I 
wait  a  short  time,  I  shall  be  set  at  liberty  by  lawful  process,  and  all 
the  world  will  know  I  am  innocent." 

Zeba  struck  his  weapon  into  the  scabbard  by  a  dexterous  motion, 
sending  it  home  with  a  crash.  Evidently,  he  considered  England  a 
semi-barbarous  country. 

"  Man  came  see  Be6be,  said  have  Robinson  in  Town  Hall.  Then 
I  came,  ask  two  men  where  Town  Hall.  Man  unlock  door  and  let 
me  in.    Ask  for  Sahib  Robinson.    Say,  all  right.    Lock  me  in  too  !" 

"  How  is — Miss  Mordaunt?"  said  Hyland. 

"  Little  sick.  Lie  down.  Ask  who  in  boat  with  me.  Say  friend. 
Not  let  mc  tiilk  English.  Say  Hindoo  noble  no  lie  in  Hindoostanee ! 
Ask  where  Sahib  Hyland  go?  I  say,  London.  Ask  who  took 
Be6be  away  ?" 

"  Well  ?"  said  Hyland,  as  Zeba  paused. 

"  Not  know.  Only  think.  No  tell  her  my  think.  Here  come 
men  on  the  steps." 

The  door  oi)ened,  and  Mr.  Plimpton,  followed  by  the  detective, 
entered.  Hyland  sat  with  his  back  to  the  door,  his  elbow  on  the 
window-sill,  blowing  smoke  through  the  grating. 

"Upon  my  word!"  observed  Mr.  Plimpton,  "you  are  right, 
Dancer.     This  gentleman  is  particularly  cool !" 

"  Rather  warm  day,  though,"  replied  Hyland,  turning.  "Take  a 
chair,  Mr.  Plimpton,  and  fix  the  bail  matter.  I  must  get  away  from 
Clifton  to-niffht." 


248  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Hyland!"  said  Mr.  Plimpton,  in  blank  astonishment.  "What 
the  devil  are  you  doing  here?" 

"  Waiting  for  you.  This  enterprising  friend  of  yours  was  quite 
pressing,  and  I  concluded  to  come.  Your  absurd  laws  make  no 
provisions  for  fool-killing.    Hence  he  walks  over  England  in  safety." 

"  Where  is  this  Robinson  ?"  said  Mr.  Plimpton,  bewildered,  turn- 
ing to  Dancer.     The  detective  pointed  doggedly  at  Hyland. 

"  This  gentleman  !"  said  the  lawyer,  white  with  rage.  "  You  mis- 
erable blockhead  !  This  is  Mr.  Hyland  Rayneford  !  Lord  Rayne- 
ford,  for  aught  I  know !  Do  you  go  prowling  over  the  country 
arresting  British  noblemen,  you  unmitigated  ass?  Come  in,  Miss 
Haidee.  Get  out,  you  red-eyed  scarecrow,  and  undo  this  mischief 
as  far  as  you  can  !     Confound  you  !" 

Hyland  rose,  threw  his  cigar  through  the  grating,  shook  Haidee's 
offered  hand,  and  gave  her  his  chair.  Dancer  looked  from  one  to 
the  other,  blinking  his  red  eyes,  while  the  old  turnkey  peered  through 
the  half-open  door  in  stupid  wonder. 

"  Will  you  please  listen  to  me,  sir  ?"  said  Dancer.  "  I  found  this 
gent  was  the  last  man  that  had  seen  the  lady.  I  found  out  his 
lodgings,  where  his  name  is  Robinson." 

Mr.  Plimpton  looked  at  Hyland,  who  nodded  his  head  in 
confirmation. 

"  When  Mr.  Robinson  stepped  out,  I  stepped  in.  I  looked  about 
the  room  a  bit,  and  found  this  in  a  basin  of  water."  And  he  un- 
rolled a  picture,  handing  it  to  Mr.  Plimpton.  The  lawyer  put  up 
his  eye-glass,  examined  the  photograph,  and  handed  it  to  Haidee. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Rayneford !"  she  said,  astonished,  "  how  did  you  get 
this?" 

"  I  was  about  to  take  the  Observatory,  the  other  day,"  he  an- 
swered, "you  stepped  in  just  on  the  instant,  and — that  is  the  result. 
I  need  not  say  I  did  not  know  you.  I  went  to  Bath  the  same  even- 
ing, met  Glendare  there,  and  he  told  me  you  were  missing  and  that 
was  your  picture.     Then  I  endeavoured  to  find  you." 

She  took  the  picture  nearer  the  window  and  studied  it  more  care- 
fully.    Then  she  offered  it  to  him. 

"  It  is  yours,"  she  said,  shyly.  "  I  had  almost  asked  if  I  might 
keep  it." 

"  Keep  it  ?"  said  Hyland,  promptly.  "  Undoubtedly  you  may. 
I  will  get  a  cardboard  and  finish  it." 

"  It  is  better  as  it  is,"  she  replied,  "  if  I  may  have  it  ?  You  can 
make  others  ?" 


^7?.  PLIMPTON.  249 

"I  can  take  you  again,"  said  Hyland  ;  "that  is,  if  you  desire 
more.  I  was  so  unlucky  as  to  spoil  the  plate  after  takin<^  tiiat. 
Nav !  keep  it,  Miss  Haidee.  May  I  enquire,  Mr.  Dancer,  wheu  I 
shall  have  the  ]>leasure " 

Dancer  jerked  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  at  the  turnkey,  who 
was  in  hot  debate  with  Mr.  Plimpton. 

"  Don't  know  nothin'  about  any  Lord  Rayneford,"  said  the  turn- 
key, obstinately.  "  I  only  know  this  man  coomed  in  here  with  a 
warrant,  and  lie  cawn't  get  out  until  you  bring  the  dockyments!" 

^'Habeas  corpus  T^  said  Mr.  Plimpton,  dancing  around  the  narrow 
room  in  a  towering  passion.  "All  the  newspapers  will  have  a  full 
and  true  account — oh,  you  blundering  donkey  !"  turning  upon  the 
unfortunate  Dancer.     "  How  the  devil  can  you  undo  this  mess?" 

"  I  can  go  to  the  magistrate  who  issued  the  warrant,"  said  Mr. 
Dancer,  "and  get  it  countersigned  and  cancelled.  Say,  Sammy, 
come  down-stairs !" 

"  Don't  stop  for  a  fi'-pound  note  or  so,  confound  you  !"  whispered 
Mr.  Plimpton.  "  Persuade  that  old  dunderhead  to  let  us  out,  and 
fix  the  paper  afterwards.  I  woukl  not  have  this  story  get  out  for  a 
hundred  pounds!  What  the  devil  do  you  want?"  turning  fiercely 
upon  Zeba,  who  had  touched  his  shoulder.  The  Hindoo  bowed, 
threw  back  his  cloak,  and  tapped  the  hilt  of  his  tulwar. 

"  Will  cut  off  red  head,"  he  whispered,  "  if  sahib  say  so." 

"Who  is  this,  Hyland?"  said  Mr.  Plimpton,  despairingly.  "I 
vow  I  cannot  decide  whether  I  am  awake  or  suffering  under  some 
infernal  nightmare !" 

"  This  is  Zeba,"  said  Hyland,  "  sometime  sergeant  in  Her  Majesty's 
army ;  now  honourably  discharged  with  a  pension.  Colonel  Mor- 
daunt  will  endorse  him,  no  doubt." 

The  red  head  was  thrust  in,  and  the  door  thrown  open. 

"  You  can  all  walk  out,  gents,"  he  said,  civilly.  "  I  am  sorry  if  I 
have  made  a  mistake  in  this  here  business.  But  I'll  swear  I  was 
actin'  under  orders.  And  I  can  show  'em  in  black  and  white,  too. 
And  it's  a  clean  loas  of  five  pounds  to  me " 

"Get  out!"  said  Mr.  Plimpton;  "put  it  in  your  bill.  Come, 
Haidee.     What  are  you  up  to  now,  Dancer  ?" 

"  Want  the  nigger  with  the  sword,"  whispered  Mr.  Dancer. 

"Nigger  with  sword  !  You  thick-skulled  vagabond  !  He  is  an 
officer  in  Her  Majesty's  army  I  You'd  better  retire  into  private 
life,  Mr.  Dancer.  At  least  until  you  get  sober.  I'm  blest  if  I  don't 
believe  you'll  want  to  arrest  me  next !" 


250  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

The  cab  took  Haidee  and  her  maid,  escorted  by  Mr.  Plimpton, 
to  St.  Vincent's  Hotel.  Hyland  and  Zeba  took  another  cab  and 
drove  into  Bristol.  When  the  sun  went  down,  Dr.  Ijcigh  and  Mr. 
Glendare  appeared  with  Sista,  and  Haidee's  ad  intanm  maid  was 
sent  to  her  mother's  house,  happy  in  the  anticipation  of  a  permanent 
home  at  Castle  Dane  under  Haidee's  domination,  at  the  end  of  the 
month. 

"  I  wonder  where  Rayneford  has  gone?"  said  Mr.  Plimpton,  when 
dinner  was  announced.     "  I  asked  him  to  dine  here  this  evening." 

"  I  saw  him  in  Bristol,"  said  the  doctor.  "  He  and  the  Hindoo 
were  just  starting  for  Cork  by  the  steamer.  I  did  not  know  the 
fellow.  He  is  sunburnt  and  robust,  and  has  a  great  beard  all  over 
his  face.  He  used  to  be  so  handsome,  too !  Poor  fellow !  He  is  a 
perfect  scarecrow  now !" 

"  Did  he  say  he  was  going  to  Cork  ?"  said  Plimpton. 

"  Yes.  By-the-bye,  that  reminds  me.  He  requested  me  to  pre- 
sent his  compliments  to  you,  and  he  begs  you  will  telegraph  any 
secret  agents  you  may  have  in  Cork,  or  any  other  part  of  Ireland, 
to  let  Zeba  go  free." 

"Ah!"  stammered  Mr.  Plimpton.  "Yes,  certainly.  You  see 
one  of  my  men  is  down  here,  and  the  Indian  looked  so  outlandish 
that  he  wished  to  arrest  him.  No  danger  in  Ireland  though.  Come, 
don't  let  the  dinner  spoil.  Glendare,  take  Miss  Mordaunt.  Come 
on,  doctor." 

While  Hyland  was  tranquilly  sleeping  midway  the  channel, 
Haidee  was  examining  the  Clifton  picture  in  her  chamber. 

"  He  did  not  want  it,  evidently,"  she  murmured,  "  and  be  has 
destroyed  the  negative.  And  he  went  away  from  that  horrid  prison 
without  a  word.  It  is  my  fault !  Oh,  yes  !  He  must  hate  even 
to  think  of  me.     But  he  never  asked  for  Juliet ! 

"What  in  the  world  has  he  gone  to  Cork  for?  Oh,  yes!  I 
know  !     Isn't  it  in  the  paper  to-day  ?     Steeple-chase  ! 

"What  in  the  world  made  him  throw  Mr.  Daltraau  in  the  water? 
Ah !  if  I  could  only  get  Zeba  ten  minutes !" 


THE  MEETING.  251 

CHAPTER    XLII. 
The  Meeting, 

CORK  liarboiir  is  probably  the  most  beautiful  harbour  on  the 
Irisii  coast.  The  town  is  not  specially  attractive  in  appear- 
ance, though  there  are  many  points  of  interest  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. On  the  morning  of  Ilyland's  arrival  the  town  wius  agog, 
because  of  the  hurdle  races  announced  for  the  day,  and  the  hotels 
were  all  full.  But  Mr.  Jlayneford  did  not  appear  to  be  con- 
cerned about  lodgings,  as  he  and  Zeba  went  prowling  along  the 
docks  as  soon  as  they  landed  from  the  Bristol  steamer.  It  was  high 
noon  when  they  stei)ped  aboard  a  schooner,  fully  a  mile  from  the 
steamer  landing. 

"  Is  the  captain  on  board  ?"  asked  Hyland,  as  a  sailor  approached. 

"  In  the  cabin,  sir.     Walk  aft,  please." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?"  said  Hyland. 

"  Cap'n  Scroggs,  sir,"  answered  the  sailor.  "  Cap'n !  here  is  a 
gintleman  that  would  spake  wid  ye  !" 

Hyland  descended  the  stairs,  leaving  Zeba  seated  on  the  cabin 
hatch.  The  caj)tain  was  at  tiie  little  table,  copying  invoices.  Hy- 
land took  a  seat  under  the  transom,  and  steadily  investigated  the 
skipper. 

"  So  !"  he  Said,  at  last,  "  your  name  is  Scroggs,  now  ?  It  was 
something  else  in  Calcutta.  Captain  Scroggs  of  the  '  Ariadne,'  now. 
Then  it  was  Corporal  Logan  of  Her  ISIajesty's  twenty-ninth  foot." 

"  I  don't  remember  you,  sir,"  said  the  other,  uneasily ;  "  did  I 
know  you  in  India  ?" 

"  Probably  not,"  replied  Hyland,  coolly,  "  but  I  knew  you.  I 
saw  you  when  you  were  taken  from  the  barracks.  You  remember? 
Do  not  be  disturbed.  I  only  want  some  information  concerning 
your  later  exploits.  I  know  all  about  your  Calcutta  history,  but 
that  need  not  be  brought  to  the  surface.  Please  inform  me  what 
devil  instigated  your  latest  crime  ?  Who  employed  you  to  carry  the 
lady  off'  from  Clifton  Downs  ?" 

"  Excuse  me  a  moment,  sir,"  said  the  captain,  rising,  "  I'll  get 
the  papers.  They  are  in  my  coat-pocket,  on  deck."  And  he  slipped 
up  the  stairs,  drew  the  sliding  hatch  tight,  and  was  securing  the 
fastening,  when  he  was  interrupted  by  a  peculiar  sensation  in  his 
shoulder. 

It  was  the  point  of  a  tulwar  that  had  passed  through  his  shirt- 


252  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

sleeve,  and  was  entering  his  flesh  as  he  fell  back.  A  capstan  bar 
was  leaning  against  the  hatch,  and  this  the  captain  seized  with  both 
hands  and  raised  over  his  head,  as  Zeba  rose  and  contronted  him. 

"Salaam,  sahib!"  said  Zeba. 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  want  ?"  said  the  captain,  savagely,  pois- 
ing the  bar. 

"Open  door!"  answered  Zeba,  politely. 

The  captain  glanced  around.  The  Irish  sailor  was  coiling  a  rope 
at  the  foot  of  the  foremast.  Kobody  else  in  sight.  It  was  the 
dinner  hour,  and  the  dock  was  deserted,  so  Captain  Scroggs  con- 
cluded the  time  propitious,  and  aimed  a  blow  at- the  Hindoo  that 
would  have  killed  an  ox.  It  missed,  however,  as  Zeba  leaped  aside, 
and  made  a  deep  indentation  on  the  hatch.  Before  he  could  heave 
it  up  again  the  keen  weapon  arose  and  fell,  and  the  bar  was  in  two 
pieces,  and  the  point  of  the  tulwar  at  his  tiiroat. 

"Open  door!"  said  Zeba,  his  single  eye  blazing  with  ferocity. 
The  captain  recoiled  a  step,  and  Zeba  pushed  the  hatch  open  with 
his  foot. 

"  Sahib,  come  up  !"  said  Zeba. 

"On  the  contrary,"  replied  Hyland,  "the  captain  will  please 
come  down." 

There  was  no  escape  for  him.  Throwing  the  stump  of  the  bar  on 
the  deck,  he  descended  into  the  cabin.  Zeba  seated  himself  on  the 
top  of  the  hatch.  The  Irish  sailor,  who  had  raised  his  head  at  the 
moment  of  the  encounter,  returned  to  his  rope-coiling  when  the 
captain  disappeared. 

"May  I  use  this  paper?"  said  Hyland,  courteously,  drawing 
some  loose  sheets  across  the  table.  "  I  shall  want  your  signature 
presently." 

"  Help  yourself!"  replied  the  captain,  with  surly  resignation.  "  I 
s'pose  you're  a  bobby  ?" 

"  Well,"  answered  Mr.  Rayneford,  "  I  flattered  myself  that  I 
might  pass  for  a  gentleman." 

"  Pooh !"  said  the  captain,  disgusted,  "  you  detective  swells  can 
pass  for  anything,  by  gum  !     What  do  you  want  of  me  ?" 

"  The  lady.     JSIiss  Mordaunt." 

"  Xo  lady  aboard." 

"  But  slie  was  aboard  on  Tuesday  night.  You  arrived  here  on 
Wednesday  night.  And  she  was  not  on  your  schooner.  I  can  have 
you  imprisoned  without  bail  in  ten  minutes  on  that  simple  statement. 
Who  can  say  you  did  not  murder  her  ?" 


THE  MEETING.  253 

"  If  that  is  all,"  said  the  sailor,  "  I  am  all  ri<rht."  And  he  produced 
a  .slip  of  i)aper.     ''Please  road  that,  ^Ir.  Otlicor!" 

"  lliiin  !"  said  liyland,  copying  the  paper  rapidly.  "  This  will  do, 
though  defective  in  ortliograj)hy.  Tiie  signature  is  probably  genuine. 
Here  is  your  acknowledgment.  You  will  need  it,  I  suppose,  to  get 
your  reward,  ^\'la're  were  you  going — I  mean  if  I  had  not  found 
you?     What  port?" 

"  Ostend." 

"  And  when  did  you  expect  to  sail  ?" 

"  To-night,  with  young  ebb.     Cargo  aboard." 

"  And  you  expect  to  meet  your  employer  at  Ostend  ?  Ah,  yes ! 
I  undei"stand  now.  Very  well !  I  am  disposed  to  be  lenient. 
Answer  my  questions  truthfully,  and  I  will  not  interfere  with  you. 
What  amount  did  your  employer  promise  for  this  service?" 

"  Fifty  pound.  Twenty  down,  and  thirty  more  when  I  produce 
this  receipt." 

"  Then  Linton  Sands  was  already  selected  as  Miss  Mordaunt's 
landing-place  ?" 

"  Yes.  I'm  obliged  to  split  on  this  here  business,  by  gum  !  That 
is,  if  you  mean  fair.     You  won't  ask  for  any  names,  governor  ?" 

"No  names  at  present,"  replied  Hyland,  Avriting  his  answer. 
"Come,  man!  Tell  your  story  in  your  own  fashion.  Tell  the 
truth,  or  as  near  the  truth  as  you  can.  I  will  not  use  your  confession 
against  you.     Zeba!" 

"Sahib?"  answered  the  Hindoo,  from  the  hatch. 

"  Chant  a  line  or  two  of  the  Song  of  tiie  Tulwar." 

The  Ciiptain  looked  in  blank  dismay  at  the  inquisitor,  while  the 
strange  gibberish  rolled  from  Zeba's  thi'oat.  When  the  song  ceased, 
Hyland  again  addressed  him. 

"Have  you  heard  that  before?     Passing  Milford,  for  instance?" 

"  Yes  !"  said  the  captain,  bewildered. 

"Well,"  said  Hyland,  dipping  his  pen  in  the  ink,  "begin  your 
story.     I  will  not  interrupt  you.     Go  on  !" 

"  He  came  on  board  at  Bristol,  and  called  me  Logan.  Never  had 
that  name  except  in  Calcutta.  Then  I  knovved  as  lie  knowed — what 
you  know.  So  he  told  me  to  keej)  siiady,  and  earn  fifty  pounds.  Said 
it  was  a  bet,  and  no  harm  would  come.  I  was  to  go  to  Clifton  Downs 
with  one  man  to  help.  I  was  to  take  a  lot  of  shawls  which  he  would 
send.  I  was  to  hang  around  a  pile  of  rocks  opposite  Hasper  Head. 
At  four  o'clock  there  would  be  a  lady  walking  there.  I  was  to  ask 
her  if  she  was  Miss  Mordauut.     If  she  said  no,  I  was  to  leave  her 


254  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

alone.  If  she  said  yes,  I  was  to  take  her  aboard  any  way  I  could 
get  her.  Better  tell  her  the  colonel  was  aboard  and  wanted  her.  If 
she  refused — to  wrap  her  up  in  the  shawls  and  take  her,  but  to  treat 
her  gently  as  possible.  Then  I  was  to  land  her  with  Tom  Jones — 
I  mean  at  Linton  light.  He  had  arranged  with  Tom.  And  I  must 
have  the  schooner  off  Hasper  Head  in  time.  It  all  happened  right. 
I  spoke  to  the  wrong  lady  first.  She  was  at  the  rocks,  drawing.  I 
asked  her  if  she  was  Miss  Mordaunt,  and  she  said  no!  So  I  backed 
out  and  left  her.  She  followed  us  down  to  the  boat,  after  we  had 
wrapped  the  right  one  up,  and  asked  me  about  five  hundred  ques- 
tions.    She  asked  me  if  this  here  schooner  was  a  yacht.     I  told  her 

yes,  because  it  wasn't,  you  know.     Then  she  asked  if  Mr. ,  my 

employer,  was  aboard?  And  I  told  her  yes  again,  because  he 
wasn't.  Then  she  said  this  was  a  horrible  outrage,  and  she  would 
scream  for  help  if  I  did  not  release  the  lady.  So  I  got  aboard  as  fast 
as  I  could,  and  she  waved  her  handkerchief  at  me,  by  gum  !  as  we 
got  anchor  up.  I  suppose  she  put  you  on  my  track  !  Of  course  she 
did.  No  one  else  knew.  But  how  the  devil  she  got  that  blacky  up 
there,  to  overhaul  me  off  Milford — cuss  me  if  I  know  !  Would 
you  mind  telling  me  that,  just  to  relieve  my  mind?" 

"She  never  saw  him,"  answered  Hyland,  quietly;  "he  got  his 
information  from  another  source.     Go  on." 

"  There  is  not  much  more.  I  worried  the  lady  until  she  insisted 
on  going  ashore,  and  I  took  her  receipt  when  I  landed  her.  Tom 
had  a  room  all  fixed  up  at  the  light-house,  and  she  was  going  to  be 
took  off  the  same  night.  Mr. — my  employer — was  going  to  get 
Tom's  father  for  his  sailing-master,  and  he  knew  all  the  shallows  on 
Linton  Sands." 

"  And  did  he  appoint  Ostend " 

"  Yes.  He  was  going  to  cruise  up  channel  a  bit,  round  by  the 
Orkneys,  and  then  down  on  the  other  side.  That  gave  me  time  to 
take  in  my  cargo  here." 

Hyland  had  written  all  this  account  verbatim,  question  and  answer. 
Then  he  read  it  aloud  to  the  captain,  who  pronounced  the  record 
correct. 

"  Now,"  said  Hyland,  "  please  tell  me  who  else  is  implicated.  I 
do  not  mean  your  employer.     But  M'hat  aid  had  you  ?" 

"  Only  my  mate.     He  is  not  aboard.     I  let  him  go  to  the  races." 

"Why  did  you  consent  to  commit  this  felony?  You  certainly 
knew  it  was  a  crime,  and  a  very  serious  crime.  Do  not  fear  to 
answer.     I  shall  not  use  this  to  harm  you.     Probably  I  shall  not 


THE  MEETING.  255 

liarm  any  one ;  but  I  must  have  an  honest  statement  from  you.  If 
Colonel  Mordaunt  can  get  his  hands  on  you — well,  I  suppose  he 
■sviil  hang  you  !  But  I  prefer  hanging  the  instigator,  by  this  light !" 
He  wrote  down  the  (juestion  as  he  spoke. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Logan,  submissively,  "  it  looks  like  giving  him 
away  ;  but  I  am  in  a  cussed  hole  !  You  see,  he  knew  all  about — that 
Calcutta  business.  And  he  said  he  would  keep  dark  about  that  if 
I  served  him  well  in  tiiis.  I  am  going  from  Ostend  to  Havre,  and 
liave  a  cargo  engaged  there  for  New  York.  And  I  thought  if  I 
could  give  him  this  lift  and  make  fifty  pounds,  and  then  get  clear 
off  to  the  States,  it  would  be  a  good  job.  But  I  made  him  swear  on 
the  Bible  that  he  meant  no  harm  to  the  lady!  And,  by  gum! — I 
may  as  well  tell  it — he  swore  he  was  going  to  marry  her  before  he 
took  her  home !" 

"Only  one  more  word,"  said  Hyland,  "and  I  will  tear  myself 
away  from  your  agreeable  society.  Now  I  write — look  or  listen  : 
'My  employer  came  from  Calcutta  in  the  steamship  "Lord  Clive," 
a  few  weeks  ago,  and  is  an  officer  in  Her  Majesty's  army.'  If  that 
is  not  true,  write  *  No'  under  it.  If  it  is  true,  just  oblige  me  with 
your  signature.  I  do  not  ask  for  any  names,  but  I  want  the  truth." 
And  he  handed  the  pen  to  the  captain,  and  pushed  the  paper  over  to 
his  side  of  the  table.     The  sailor  held  the  pen  irresolutely  a  moment. 

"  Is  this  all  ?"  he  said. 

"  All." 

The  other  wrote,  in  a  bold  hand,  "  John  Scroggs"  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sheet. 

"  I  will  have  to  trouble  you  to  add  one  of  your  other  names,"  ob- 
served Hyland,  courteously.  "Suppose  you  add  there,  'otherwise' 
— your  last  Calcutta  name  ?" 

The  sailor  growled  some  inarticulate  reply,  which  did  not  sound 
like  a  pious  ejaculation,  and  added  "William  Logan." 

"  Farewell,  captain  !"  said  Hyland,  rising.  "  It  is  not  probable 
that  we  shall  meet  again.  May  I  advise  you  to  keep  on  the  sunny 
side  of  the  law  hereafter  ?  I  am  not  very  old,  but  I  have  yet  to  find 
a  solitary  man  who  prospered  in  dishonesty.  That  is  a  poor  argu- 
ment, I  know.  But  if  you  will  try  some  of  the  legitimate  pursuits 
for  which  you  are  qualified  you  will  probably  be  surprised  to  find 
how  pleasant  your  life  will  be.  Why,  man,  you  may  obliterate  your 
evil  record — I  mean  so  far  as  this  life  is  concerned.  And  if  you 
take  any  interest  in  another  life — I  suppose — you  had  better  consult 
a  clergyman !" 


256  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  I  flatter  myself,"  said  Hyland,  as  he  walked  ashore,  "  that  I 
delivered  a  very  passable  moral  lecture,  though  the  conclusion  was 
rather  lame.     Zeba,  where  shall  we  go  ?" 

"  Has  sahib  got  all  he  want  from  captain  ?"  said  the  Hindoo. 

"All !     And  now  I  want  Miles  !     Aliles  !  my  brother  I" 

Zeba  drew  forth  his  weapon,  circled  it  around  his  head,  tossed  it, 
flashing,  up  in  the  air,  caught  it  by  the  narrow  hilt  as  it  descended, 
threw  a  cord  over  a  projecting  yard  of  the  "Ariadne,"  and  set  the 
tulwar  M-hirling  at  the  end  of  the  string. 

"  Tulwar  alive  to-day !"  observed  the  Hindoo.  "  Have  little 
fight !" 

It  ceased  its  revolutions,  the  point  steadily  turned  down  the  bay, 
the  direction  not  changing  with  the  slight  vibrations  of  the  schooner. 

"  Must  go  back !"  said  Zeba,  with  unflinching  gravity. 

"Back?"  said  Hyland. 

"  Yes.  Take  first  boat.  Xo  matter  where  go !  Here  boat ! 
Much  people  go  on  board.     Sahib,  come !" 

It  was  a  small  steamer,  just  casting  ofl"  from  the  dock  adjoining 
the  berth  of  the  "  Ariadne."  Hyland,  followed  by  Zeba,  leaped  on 
board  as  the  wheels  began  to  revolve. 

"  Liverpool,  sir?"  said  an  official  with  a  gold  band  around  his  cap. 

"Yes,"  replied  Hyland,  somewhat  bewildered. 

"  Get  tickets,  sir,  at  this  window.  Cannot  promise  a  berth.  The 
'China'  is  unusually  full.    You  will  have  to  arrange  with  the  purser." 

Hyland  hardly  noticed  his  surroundings  until  they  passed  out  at 
the  mouth  of  the  harbour.  A  black-hulled  steamer,  with  red  fun- 
nel, sea-stained.  A  gangway  passed  from  the  wheel-house  of  the 
small  vessel,  and  a  stream  of  people  passing  over  it  to  the  steamer. 
Gazing  curiously  at  the  strange  faces  on  board,  he  is  caught  by  the 
shoulder  and  waist. 

"  Hyland  !     Can  it  be  you  ?"  said  a  familiar  voice. 

"  Miles !"  And  the  two  stalwart  men  turned  their  faces  to  sea- 
ward to  hide  the  moisture  that  welled  up  from  full  hearts  and 
showed  in  their  eves. 


A    CHALLENGE.  257 

CHAPTER    XLIII. 
A  Challenge. 

CASTLEDAXE  was  inhabited.  The  "improvements/'  which 
is  the  name  given  to  the  unspeakable  horror  of"  house  repairs 
in  civilized  society,  were  postponed  until  later  in  the  autumn.  The 
colonel  was  regaining  health  rai)iclly.  Miss  Juliet  had  gone  to 
iiondon  to  inspect  a  house  recently  purchased,  and  which  was  also 
open  to  improvements.  It  had  been  agreed  that  Juliet  should  reg- 
ulate the  repairs  to  the  town  house,  and  Haidee  should  have  full 
sway  at  Castledane.  To  cut  a  doorway  through  solid  stone  walls; 
to  fill  up  a  window  with  masonry,  and  strew  the  grounds  near  the 
house  with  rubbish  ;  to  make  the  atmosphere  reek  with  odours  of 
paint,  while  an  army  of  workmen  in  soiled  apparel  infested  every 
quiet  ^ook — these  were  the  pleasant  dreams  of  the  gentle  im- 
provers. 

The  party  at  Castledane  was  composed  of  Mr.  Glendare  and 
Doctor  Leigh  ;  Mr.  Plimpton  and  Mr.  Daltman.  Haidee  was  host- 
ess, and  on  hospitable  cares  intent.  Mr.  Daltman,  who  was  assidu- 
ous in  his  attentions,  was  constantly  baffled  by  incursions  of  domes- 
tics requiring  ]\Iiss  Mordaunt's  instructions.  He  had  relinquished 
his  cruise,  or  rather  had  postponed  it,  until  he  could  make  up  his 
party.     The  yacht  was  in  dock  at  Bristol. 

A  little  time  after  breakfast,  Mr.  Daltman  was  on  a  camp-stool, 
under  the  library  window,  and  he  overheard  a  conversation  between 
Colonel  Mordaunt  and  the  lawyer.  They  were  evidently  discussing 
a  will,  and  the  listener  was  stricken  dumb  by  a  few  words  from  the 
colonel,  distinctly  spoken. 

"But  Haidee  must  be  specially  provided  for!"  Then  the  voices 
sunk  into  lower  tones,  and  Mr.  Daltman  lost  several  sentences. 
Presently  the  colonel's  voice  was  raised  a  little,  and  the  listener 
caught  another  announcement. 

"  But  Haidee  inherits  nothing  from  me,  I  tell  you !  You  know 
she  is  not  my  daughter !" 

This  was  the  intelligence  that  confounded  Mr.  Daltman.  And 
while  still  bewildered  there  came  a  final  shot. 

"  No  use  to  talk  about  Castledane,"  said  the  colonel,  positively, 
"  let  the  law  settle  that.  I  have  no  power  to  disturb  the  title,  if  I 
would.     Give  Haidee  all  the  consols." 

As  Haidee  happened  to  approach  at  this  juncture,  Mr.  Daltman 

17 


258  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

thought  it  politic  to  move.  He  threw  away  his  cigar,  and  met  her 
on  the  lawn,  and  out  of  earshot  of  the  library.  The  charming  young 
lady  looked  smaller  and  more  childlike  to  Daltman.  Heretofore 
when  he  looked  at  her  she  represented  five  hundred  acres  of  park 
and  the  bulky  ruin  of  Castle  Dane,  to  say  nothing  of  the  mansion, 
which  held  twenty  guests  without  crowding.  Now  she  had  shrunken 
into  the  compass  of  an  ordinary  school-girl,  without  even  a  definite 
amount  in  the  three  per  cents.  Nothing  of  her  own — and  the  col- 
onel positively  growing  younger  every  day !  It  was  beneficial  on 
the  whole,  as  he  could  now  show  disinterested  affection.  His  own 
fortune  was  big  enough.  It  was  hard  though — deuced  hard — to 
think  of  Juliet  taking  some  chucklehead  who  should  be  lord  of 
Castledane ! 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  the  colonel  improving  so  rapidly,"  said  Dalt- 
man, as  he  joined  her ;  "  he  looks  ten  years  younger  already." 

"  Yes.  He  shall  not  go  back  to  India,"  replied  Haidee ;  "  he  has 
promised  me  that.  Just  now  he  is  very  full  of  my  adventures.  He 
is  going  to  discover  the  '  marauder,'  he  says." 

"  Has  he  any  suspicions  ?"  asked  her  companion. 

"  I  think  not.  He  sent  the  detective  to  Linton  Sands  yesterday. 
That  dreadful  man  there  drinks,  and  the  detective  expects  to  dis- 
cover some  clue.  The  vessel  went  to  Cork,  and — some  one  has 
gone  there  too." 

"  What  object  could  your  abductor  have  ?"  said  Daltman,  enquir- 
ingly. 

"  Money." 

"  Has  it  occurred  to  you  that  some  one  might  have  seen  you,  and 
being  carried  away  by  all-controlling  passion,  ran  this  desperate 
risk  in  the  hope  of  winning  you?" 

"  Oh,  no  !"  answered  Haidee,  promptly,  "  that  is  not  a  thinkable 
proposition." 

"Thinkable  proposition!"  muttered  Daltman.  " "Where  did  you 
pick  up  these  phrases  ?  You  have  listened  to  Glendare  and  Rayne- 
ford,  wrangling  over  some  German  metaphysics !  Anything  is 
thinkable !" 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Haidee,  quietly,  "  that.  Mr.  Scroggs  was  not  a 
victim  to  the  sudden  enchantment  you  suggest " 

"  No.     But  he  may  have  been  employed  by  another." 

"  Yes.  And  the  other  could  not  have  had  very  violent  attachment 
to  me,  or  he  would  not  liave  placed  me  in  custody  of  Mr.  Scroggs ! 
I  hope  he  will  not  be  found  !     If  he  is  a  gentleman,  papa  will  shoot 


A    CHALLENGE.  259 

him.  If  he  is  not,  he  will  haii«r  iiirn.  But  Zeba  is  looking  for  him, 
and  will  be  sure  to  find  him.     Oh,  dear  !" 

"  Zeba  !"  said  Daltman,  with  a  start.  ''  I  forgot  about  Zeba.  The 
bUick  rascal  was  at  the  light-house  tiiat  night !  He  was  with  the 
scoundrel  that " 

"Put  vou  in  the  water?"  said  ITaidee,  as  he  paused. 

"I   should    like   to   see   him,"  said    Daltman,  through    his   set 

teeth. 

"  So  should  I !"     This  was  said  in  so  low  a  whisper  that  Daltman 

only  heard  a  sigh. 

"  Here  comes  Glendare,"  said  Daltman,  "  his  eyes  blazing  through 
his  spectacles.     What  is  up,  Hamish  ?" 

Mr.  Glendare  put  a  paper  in  Haidee's  hand.  "  Read  !"  he  said, 
"  here  is  great  news !" 

Haidee  read  aloud  :  "  Liverpool.  Hyland  Rayneford  to  Hamish 
Glendare,  George  Hotel,  Bath.  My  brother  arrived  by  Ounarder 
to-dav.  We  go  immediately  to  Hawkley.  But  shall  stop  in  Bristol 
to-night.     All  well." 

"  Liverpool !"  said  Haidee.  "  Why,  he  went  to  Cork  only  two 
davsago!     Does  papa  know?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Glendare.  "  The  mes.sage  was  sent  out  from  Bath, 
and  has  just  arrived.  I  showed  your  father,  of  course,  and  he  sent 
me  for  you.     This  is  joyful  intelligence,  eh,  Frank?" 

"  Um  !  Ah  !  Yes,  certainly !"  said  Daltman,  looking  after 
Haidee,  as  she  floated  over  the  lawn.  "  What  the  devil  was  she 
saying  about  Cork?" 

"  Oh  !  You  did  not  know^  about  it  ?"  said  Mr.  Glendare.  "  Zeba 
and  Hyland  went  to  Cork  to  overhaul  the  vessel  that  carried  Haidee 
away.  '  *  The  Ermine,'  or  some  such  name.  Hyland  found  out 
somehow.  He  has  been  prowling  about  the  mouth  of  the  channel 
with  Zeba.  The  colonel  is  bloodthirsty.  Zeba  is  a  hyena.  And 
Ray  n  ('  ford " 

"What  of  Rayneford?"  said  Daltman,  with  a  malignant  glare  in 

his  eyes. 

"  Rayneford  would  not  be  in  Liverpool  unless  he  had  finished 
his  search.  He  probably  has  the  agents  of  the  abductor  in  prison. 
From  Haidee's  account,  I  judge  the  man — the  miscreant  who 
planned  the  outrage — must  have  money.  But  all  the  money  in 
England  will  not  buy  him  off  if  either  one  of  the  three  can  get  at 
him.     And  if  all  three  should  fail " 

"Well,  wliatthen?" 


260  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Then  I,  Hamish  Glendare,  will  take  up  the  case,  and  I  shall  not 
fail." 

Daltman  looked  with  admiration  into  the  eyes  of  the  truculent 
parson  flashing  through  his  spectacles. 

"  Why,  Hamish  !"  he  said,  "you  look  positively  bloodthirsty !" 

"  Consider  the  provocation  !"  replied  Glendare.  "  The  scoundrel 
seized  and  carried  away  this  innocent  child,  kept  her  in  untold  terror 
two  nights  and  a  day " 

"But  can  you  think  of  no  palliation?"  said  Daltman.  "Miss 
Haidee  is  no  child.  She  is  a  most  attractive  woman.  The  fellow 
may  be  madly  in  love  with  her " 

"Love!"  said  the  missionary,  indignantly.  "Frank,  you  disgust 
me!  To  talk  to  me  of  love,  when  you  know  this  man  subjected 
Haidee  to  unspeakable  horrors.  What  do  you  suppose  were  her 
thoughts  in  the  thirty  hours  of  captivity  ?  Among  rude  people,  the 
one  woman  on  the  island  speaking  only  an  unknown  tongue ;  the 
man  half  drunk  all  the  time,  and  whole  drunk  generally.  The  fel- 
low who  planned  the  outrage  is  no  fool,  and  he  must  have  known 
all  this.     Hanging  is  a  mild  punishment  for  him  !" 

"  Mr.  Glendare,"  said  Colonel  Mordaunt,  whose  step  had  been 
inaudible  in  the  soft  grass,  "you  will  go  to  Bristol  to  meet  the 
Raynefords?" 

"  Undoubtedly,"  answered  Mr.  Glendare. 

"  Well !  The  train  is  due  at  six.  Bring  them  directly  here.  We 
will  wait  dinner." 

"  Dinner  at  eight,"  said  Haidee,  who  had  followed  the  colonel. 
"  Take  the  grey  horses.     They  can  do  it  in  seventy  minutes." 

"And  I  will  go  with  you!"  said  Daltman,  suddenly.  "I  want 
to  see  about  the  yacht,  anyhow.  And,  colonel,  if  the  tide  serves,  I 
may  go  down  the  river.  Will  you  excuse  me  if  I  absent  myself  a 
few  days  ?"  * 

"  Certainly.  But  you  had  better  wait  for  a  change  of  wind.  Due 
west  now." 

"  I  will  decide  when  I  see  my  sailing-master.  I'll  get  my  valise 
and  be  ready  in  five  minutes,  Hamish." 

When  the  carriage  reached  Bristol  there  was  an  hour  to  spare. 
Daltman  said  he  expected  to  find  Mr.  Brentam  at  the  hotel.  He 
would  look  for  him  and  return  before  six.  But  he  went  first  to  the 
docks  and  examined  the  sailing-master  of  the  "  Juliet"  respecting 
tides  and  winds.  The  yacht  could  go  out  at  dusk.  AVeather  good 
enough.     Breeze  a  little  stiffish,  but  none  to  hurt.     So  he  left  his 


A    CHALLENGE.  261 

valise  in  tlie  cabin.  Then  he  went  to  find  his  uncle.  Mr.  Brentam 
had  just  gone  to  Clifton,  and  would  return  to-morrow.  Back  to  the 
station,  which  he  reached  in  time  to  see  the  colonel's  carriage  drive 
away.  A  gentleman  and  lady  on  the  back  seat.  Mv.  Glendare  and 
another  stranger,  an  elderly  gentleman,  on  the  front  seat.  Hylaud 
on  the  box  with  the  driver. 

"Clifton,  sir?  All  the  way  to  the  Rocks!"  It  was  the  driver 
of  the  omnibus  who  spoke.  Daltman  entered  the  vehicle  and  took 
a  seat  next  a  dark-skinned  passenger.     It  was  Zeba. 

"  Hi !"  said  Daltman.     "  Is  it  you,  Zeba  ?" 

"  Salaam,  sahib !" 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?"  enquired  Daltman,  scanning  the  Hindoo's 
altered  appearance  curiously.  He  had  his  red  coat  with  the  ser- 
geant's bands  on  the  sleeve,  his  white  turban,  and  uniform  trousers. 
The  croas  straps  for  bayonet  and  cartridge-box  were  wanting,  but  he 
wore  his  tulwar,  as  of  old.  "  Why,  you  are  in  full  uniform !  Not 
in  the  service  ?" 

"  Discharged,"  said  Zeba,  politely.  "  But  paper  say  may  wear 
uniform." 

"  But  you  cannot  wear  a  sergeant's  coat  if  you  are  a  servant !" 
said  Daltman,  rudely.  "  I  suppose  you  are  Mr.  Rayueford's 
servant  ?" 

"  No  servant !"  replied  Zeba,  gravely.  "  Sahib  Hyland  friend, 
not  master !" 

Daltman  laughed  derisively.  The  omnibus  rolled  awav  from  the 
station,  following  the  colonel's  carriage.  Instead  of  turning  in  the 
direction  of  Castledane,  the  carriage  took  the  Clifton  road.  There 
were  three  or  four  i)assengers  in  the  omnibus,  all  of  whom  got  out 
at  the  outskirts  of  Clifton,  and  Zeba  and  his  ex-officer  were  the  only 
"  insides." 

"  Have  you  been  to  Cork  ?"  ftiid  Daltman,  when  they  were  alone. 

"  Yes,  sahib.     Find  Lord  Rayneford  there." 

"  Did  you  find  anything  else?" 

"  Sahib  Hyland  look,"  replied  Zeba,  cautiously. 

"  It  was  Rayneford  who  was  with  you  at  Linton  Sands,"  said 
Daltman — "I  mean  in  the  yellow  coat,  the  other  night?" 

"Sahib  know  him?"  enquired  the  Hindoo. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Hi !  this  is  the  hotel.  Listen  !  Say  to  Mr.  Hyland 
Rayneford  that  I  will  be  at  the  Observatory,  and  will  wait  for  him. 
Do  you  understand  ?" 

"Yes,  sahib.     Will  tell."     And  Zeba  descended  and  entered  the 


262  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

hotel,  while  Mr.  Daltman  passed  on  to  the  Downs.  He  reached  the 
Observatory,  and  seating  himself  on  the  bench  near  the  building, 
waited.  In  a  few  minutes  Hyland  turned  the  corner,  walking  rap- 
idly, and  stopping  suddenly  before  him,  bowed. 

"  "What  is  your  pleasure?"  said  he,  coldly. 

"  Um  !     That  depends.     Suppose  I  say  I  am  your  enemy  ?" 

"  I  hope  you  are,"  replied  Hyland.     "  I  am  certainly  yours !" 

"  Will  you  fight?"  said  Daltman,  starting  up.  "  Out  here  by  the 
Kocks,  or  down  in  Nightingale  Valley.  An  hour  hence.  I  have 
pistols  in  Bristol,  and  will  be  punctual." 

"  I  cannot  fight  you,  Mr.  Daltman,"  said  Hyland,  after  a  jxiuse. 
"  The  temptation  is  very  urgent,  but  I  dare  not !  I  should  rejoice 
to  kill  you,  but  cannot  stain  my  name.     I  know  everything." 

"  So  much  the  more  reason  why  I  should  kill  you  !"  retorted  the 
other,  savagely,  as  he  raised  his  clenched  hand.  "A  blow  may 
awaken  your  courage,  curse  you  !" 

Hyland  caught  his  arm  as  it  descended,  held  him  a  moment  in  a 
grip  of  such  tenacity  that  he  was  utterly  helpless,  then  threw  him 
backward  upon  the  bench. 

"  Heed  what  I  say !"  said  Hyland,  sternly.  "  You  are  a  base 
reptile,  but  your  kindred  are  my  friends !  To-morrow,  if  I  speak 
the  word,  your  name  will  be  stricken  from  the  army  rolls,  and  you 
will  be  an  outcast  from  all  society.  I  have  the  written  confession 
of  Logan  and  of  Jones,  the  drunken  light-house  keeper.  I  know 
why  you  perpetrated  this  desperate  villainy,  and — only  one  other 
knows,  and  she  has  promised  to  remain  silent.  Oh,  Frank !  I  am 
heartbroken  about  you !  I  always  knew  you  were  horribly  selfish 
and  unscrupulous,  but  you  were  brave  and  jolly,  and  I  thought  you 
were  a  gentleman.  I  cannot  bear  to  destroy  you  !  God  forgive  me 
if  I  do  wrong  in  this ;  but  I  cannot  be  your  executioner.  I  know 
the  disgrace  would  kill  you.  Will*  you  obey  me  if  I  show  you  a 
way  of  escape?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Daltman,  with  white  lips. 

"  Then  take  your  yacht  and  disappear !  If  you  cannot  cross  the 
ocean  in  so  small  a  vessel,  go  to  Ostend  and  join  your  confederate, 
Logan.  He  is  going  to  the  States.  In  a  month  or  two  write — to 
Mildred,  and  we  will  send  you  money." 

"  And  your  confessions "  stammered  Daltman. 

*'  Shall  die  with  me  !  I  will  shield  your  name  for  Mildred's  sake. 
Trust  me  to  avert  all  suspicion  from  you.  I  dare  not  do  it  if  you 
remain  in  the  country,  or  in  Her  Majesty's  service." 


REUNION.  263 

"  Touch  my  hand  once,  Hyland.     Thank  you  !     I'll  obey  to  the 
letter.     Farewdl !" 

That  night  the  "  Juliet"  went  to  pieces  on  Linton  Sands. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

Reunion. 

"A /l~R.  GLENDARE  and  Zeba  were  the  only  occupants  of  the 
■^-^  carriage  when  it  returned  to  Castledane.  The  latter  re- 
ceived a  cordial  welcome  from  the  colonel,  and  an  injunction  in 
Pracrit  from  Haidee  to  keep  within  call  until  she  found  an  oppor- 
tunity to  converse  more  at  length  with  him.  The  excuse  for  the 
non-appearance  of  the  Raynefords  was,  first,  tliat  Lord  Rayneford 
had  his  wife  and  her  father  in  his  party;  and,  second,  that  Mr. 
Brentam  and  his  niece  were  to  meet  them  in  Clifton  by  appoint- 
ment. It  was  quite  nine  o'clock  when  they  left  the  dinner-table — 
Haidee  to  investigate  Zeba,  on  the  east  terrace,  and  Mr.  Glendare 
and  the  colonel  to  fumigate  the  library. 

"  It  was  a  disappointment  to  miss  the  Raynefords,"  observal  the 
colonel ;  "  perhaps  we  can  get  them  to-morrow.  What  is  my  lady 
like?" 

"  She  resembles  Haidee  somewhat,"  replied  Mr.  Glendare,  "  though 
rather  more  robust.  She  was  so  shy  and  reticent  that  I  could  not 
draw  her  out  successfully." 

*'  An  American  lady,  I  suppose  ?"  said  the  colonel.  "  There  must 
be  some  romance  about  this  match.  Lord  Rayneford  evidently  went 
to  America  for  her.  !N^o  other  motive  can  be  imagined.  Is  she 
thoroughbred  ?" 

"  Undoubtedly.  Her  father  is  an  Englishman  beyond  doubt,  and 
a  gentleman." 

*'  Did  you  hear  his  name  ?"  said  the  colonel,  carelessly. 

"  Yes.  Mr.  Dale.  He  is  from  Somerset,  I  fancy.  What  is  the 
matter  ?" 

The  colonel  had  started  from  the  lounge,  dropped  his  cheroot  on 
the  floor,  and  was  standing  at  Glendare 's  side. 

"  Did  he  know  you  came  from  Castledane — from  me  ?" 

"  I  think  not.  I  met  Hyland  first,  and  he  and  his  brother  were 
busy  with  luggage.     There  was  a  great  lot  of  it.     I  tiUkcd  with 


264  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

them  while  Mr.  Dale  and  his  daughter  waited  on  the  platform.  "SYe 
drove  them  over  to  Clifton,  and  then  came  directly  back.  Nothing 
was  said  about  Castledane,  as  I  had  already  received  Lord  Eayne- 
ford's  excuses.  There  was  some  business  with  Mr.  Brentam  that 
was  apparently  urgent." 

'•'■  And  you  heard  no  other  name  but  Mr.  Dale's  ?"  said  the  colonel. 
"  Can  it  be  possible " 

"  I  heard  him  call  Lady  Rayneford,  Annot."  The  colonel  rang 
the  bell. 

"Tell  the  coachman  to — you  had  the  grays,  Glendare?  Tell  him 
to  put  his  best  horse — the  dog-cart  is  best — the  dog-cart  soon  as 
possible.     I  am  going  to  Clifton.     Make  haste !" 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  footman,  reappearing  in  a  moment. 
"  The  dog-cart  will  be  here  in  a  minute.  But  Sam  can  drive  you  to 
the  station  in  time  to  catch  the  up  train " 

"  Good  !"  said  the  colonel.  "  Haidee,  get  your  hat  and  shawl — 
not  a  minute  to  spare.  And  if  we  catch  the  train,  let  Sam  drive 
the  carriage  to  Clifton  and  bring  us  back.    What  hotel,  Glendare?" 

"St.  Vincent's.  May  I  enquire  without  impropriety  what  all 
this  means?" 

"  Keep  house  for  me,  my  dear  fellow,  until  I  return,"  replied  the 
colonel.     "  Here  is  the  cart.     Up,  Haidee  !   Sixteen  minutes,  Sara." 

"  That  is  three  more'n  I  want,  sir,"  replied  Sam.     "  G'long !" 

Zeba  crawled  in  from  the  terrace,  coiled  himself  up  in  a  corner 
of  the  library,  and  went  to  sleep.  Beebe,  who  had  just  begun  her 
investigation  when  her  father's  summons  called  her  in,  had  laid 
stringent  injunctions  upon  the  unhappy  Hindoo  to  Avait  her  return. 
She  had  asked  him  fourteen  questions  in  one  sentence,  and  required 
categorical  answers  to  each.  He  had  previously  been  pumped  dry 
by  Mr.  Glendare  during  the  drive  from  Clifton.  Haidee  asked  no 
questions  until  they  were  gliding  over  the  iron  road  on  their  way  to 
Bristol.     They  had  a  carriage  to  themselves. 

"  Now,  papa,"  she  said,  "  if  you  will  please  tell  me  where  we  are 
going,  and  what  for,  I  will  be  very  thankful." 

"  What  for,  child?"  replied  the  colonel.  "  AYell,  first,  I  am  going 
to  look  for  a  niece  for  myself  and  a  cousin  for  you.  Second,  for  a 
brother-in-law  for  myself  and  an  uncle  for  you.  Lady  Rayneford 
is  your  cousin,  I  think — nay,  I  am  sure.  It  would  be  cruel  indeed 
if  it  were  not  so.  Poor  child !  you  have  been  brought  up  in  igno- 
rance of  your  only  relations.  My  sister,  my  only  sister,  married 
Mr.  Dale.     They  went  to  America  twenty-five  years  ago.     I  went 


reunion:  2C5 

to  India  soon  after,  and  there  was  no  intercourse  between  us  after 
our  separation.  Lord  Rayneford  found  her  daujjjhter  in  America, 
and  has  brought  her  to  Clifton,  his  wife.  Gleiuhire  only  knew  she 
was  Miss  Dale,  and  her  name  wsis  Annot." 

"  You  have  never  told  me  about  these  relations,"  said  Haidee. 
"  I  thought  we  had  no  kindred  in  the  world." 

"  And  therefore  you  think  of  increasing  our  kindred !"  said  the 
colonel,  slyly.  "  You  little  goose !  You  thought  I  would  not  dis- 
cover your  secret !" 

"  What  can  you  mean,  papa?"  said  Haidee,  blushing  safely  in  the 
d  i  m ly-1  ighted  carriage. 

"Have  you  not  an  admirer,  an  Indian  friend  who  has  developed 
into  a  lover?  Ah!  you  don't  answer!  But  I  think  I  have  dis- 
covered his  intentions.  In  fact,  he  said  to  me  to-day,  in  a  very 
sheepish  manner,  that  he  thought  of  marrying !" 

"  I  do  not  see  how  that  concerns  me,"  replied  Haidee,  majestically. 

"  I  have  no  proofs,"  §aid  the  colonel,  laughing;  "  he  only  said  he 
bad  an  old  attachment — there  was  some  obstacle,  he  said,  but  he 
would  overcome  it  in  time.  But  he  is  too  old  for  you,  child  !  '  I 
may  not  win  her  for  some  months,'  he  said,  '  but  I  shall,  event- 
ually !' " 

"  Will  he  ?"  said  Haidee,  in  a  whisper.     "  We  shall  see  !" 

"  He  is  a  good  man,  Haidee,"  continued  the  colonel ;  "  a  gentleman 
of  good  blood,  and  with  good  enough  fortune." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  sir,"  said  Haidee,  resentfully,  "  to  offer  me, 
especially  as  he  has  not  asked  me " 

"  But  he  has !  And  you  told  him  your  affections  were  already 
bestowed "  < 

"Of  whom  are  you  speaking,  papa?"  said  Haidee,  in  fine  wrath. 
"  The  wretch !  to  tell  such  infamous  stories  !  My  affections  bestowed  I 
Did  he  enlighten  you  as  to  the  beloved  object,  too?" 

"  Certainly  !"  replied  the  colonel,  with  provoking  coolness.  "  He 
said  it  was — but  I  have  no  right  to  betray  his  confidence.  I  suppose 
you  know  ?" 

"  Upon  my  word  !"  said  Haidee,  in  white  heat  by  this  time.  "  I 
don't  know,  of  course,  who  this  well-born  gentleman  is.  But  I  do 
know  he  is  a — mendacious  coxcomb!  /tell  him  my  affections  were 
engaged!  /.'  Oh,  if  he  will  dare  to  t;Uk  such  horrid  rubbish  to 
me,  I'll — make  Sista  scratch  his  eyes  out !" 

"  Well,  well !"  said  the  colonel,  "  here  is  a  coil  with  a  vengeance ! 
I  only  intended  to  tease  you,  my  dear,  and  I  have  raised  the  devil. 


266  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

However,  be  mollified!  I  promise  to  give  my  consent,  whichever 
one  you  take.  What  the  deuce  did  he  come  to  me  for,  confound 
him !  until  he  had  made  matters  right  with  you  ?" 

"  Please  t«ll  me  the  name  of  my " 

"  I'll  tell  you  nothing  !"  interrupted  the  colonel.  "  Find  out  for 
yourself.  Here  is  Bristol.  Now  for  a  cab.  Come  on,  you  irritable 
little  vixen !" 

"  I  only  wished  to  ask,  sir,"  said  Haidee,  plaintively,  "  the  name 
of  the  gentleman  who  has  won  my  alTections.  I  don't  care  about 
the  other." 

"  Exactly  !"  responded  the  colonel.  "  Now  that  is  the  very  name 
I  shall  not  mention.  He  is  a  gallant  fellow,  though,  and  I  believe 
I  like  him  best.  Have  your  own  way,  as  usual !  Here  is  a  cab. 
Get  in  !     St.  Vincent's  Hotel,  Clifton.  *  How  long?" 

"  Fifteen  minutes,  y'r  honour,"  said  Cabby,  as  he  shut  them  in. 

"  Make  it  twelve,  and  charge  me  an  extra  shilling,"  said  the  col- 
onel. "Now,  Haidee,  if  I  find  my  niece,' as  I  hope,  I'll  cut  you 
off  with  a  shilling,  and  that  will  make  two.  And  then  you  will 
have  to  take  my  confidant,  who  has  more  money  than  t'other  fellow." 

"  I  would  not  take  him  if  he  owned  all  England !"  answered 
Haidee,  hotly. 

"  My  dear,  you  had  better  get  Leigh  to  bring  back  your  neuralgia !" 
said  the  colonel ;  "  you  used  to  be  so  sweet-tempered  and  patient ! 
But  since  you  have  been  robust  your  temper  has — well — got  short !" 

"  Because  I  was  not  beset  by  fools  and  story-tellers,"  said  Haidee, 
promptly.  "  The  Hindoos  were  not  fools,  though  they  could  lie 
quite  glibly.     But  Mr.  Daltman " 

"  What  about  Mr.  Daltman  ?"  said  the  colonel,  with  surprise  in 
his  tones. 

''  Nothing.     Except  what  you  have  said." 

"  I've  said  nothing  about  Daltman.  Good  heavens !  You  did 
not  think  I  meant  Daltman  !  If  he  has  been  courting  you — con- 
found him,  I'll  break  his  neck  !" 

"  Tell  me  instantly,  sir ! — I  mean,  if  you  please,  who  has  talked 
to  you  about  courting  me  ?" 

"  Well,  Glendare  !     He  is  Laird  of  Glendare  now,  you  know." 

Haidee  sat  silent,  trying  to  remember  how  much  wine  had  been 
imbibed  at  dinner.  She  had  tal^en  none.  Mr.  Glendare  had  taken 
only  one  glass  of  claret.  And  the  venerable  colonel  had  the  claret 
jug  at  his  elbow  all  the  time.  But  he  was  drinking  beer.  He  had 
divided  his  bottle  with  her.     It  could  not  be  intoxication.     Then  it 


REUNION.  267 

must  be  some  strange  mistake.  Glenilare !  Thirty-five,  if  he  was 
a  day !  And  he  called  her  "  Jlaidcc"  ami  had  no  more  love  in  his 
body  than  a  turnip  !  She  wouUl  like  to  laiij^h  out  loudly  at  the 
mere  thought !  But — t'other  fellow  !  What  wretched  inebriate  was 
meant  by  t'other  fellow? 

"  Clifton  !"  said  the  colonel.     "  Here  is  the  hotel !" 

Haidee  followed  the  colonel  into  the  hotel.  Then,  after  a  mo- 
mentary delay,  they  were  ushered  up-stairs  into  a  parlour  on  the 
second  floor.  Then  the  colonel  was  shaking  hands  violently  with  two 
gentlemen,  one  fifty  years  old  at  least;  the  other  about  twenty-five, 
and  like  Sir  Hyland.  Sir  Hyland  standing  apart  in  the  bay-win- 
dow. Then  the  colonel  embraced  a  lovely  lady,  and  led  her  to 
Haidee,  and  the  lovely  lady  embraced  her  vigourously  !  And  every- 
body was  talking  and  laughing,  and  weeping  a  little.  And  when 
Haidee  recovered  consciousneas  she  was  seated  in  the  bay-window, 
with  Lady  Rayneford's  arm  still  around  her. 

'^  Every  one  of  you  must  go  to  Castledane !"  said  the  colonel, 
with  the  tone  of  one  accustomed  to  command.  "  Every  one  of  you, 
and  to-night!  Don't  speak!  I  will  hear  no  denial!  Dale,  there 
is  no  roof  in  England  excepting  mine  that  can  shelter  you.  Lord 
Rayneford,  do  not  deny  me,  I  implore  you.  Haidee  !  Why  don't 
you  speak  ?" 

"I  have  cousin  Annot  here,  sir,"  replied  Haidee;  "and  if  she 
will  not  go  with  me,  I  shall  stay  here  with  her." 

"  But  we  have  a  prior  engagement,"  said  Lord  Rayneford ;  "  I 
would  gladly  accept  your  invitation  if  I  could.     But " 

"  My  carriage  will  be  here  in  an  hour,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  we 
came  by  train.  You  certainly  have  no  engagement  at  this  hour. 
And  I  will  send  you  back  to-morrow.  There  are  only  six  of  us. 
AVe  will  be  at  Castledane  by  midnight.     You  must  come !" 

Miles  looked  irresolutely  at  Annot.  Annot  looked  at  Hyland. 
Hyland  was  looking  at  Haidee,  who  returned  his  glance  with  her 
grand  eyes  full  of  imperious  authority. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak,  sir?"  she  said.  "  I  have  a  quarrel  with 
you,  which  must  be  settled  at  Castledane.  Ah !  I  know  some  of 
your  exploits !" 

"  Let  us  go.  Miles,"  said  Hyland,  submissively. 

"Yes!"  said  Annot.     And  Haidee  kissed  her. 

"  Make  your  preparations,  then,"  said  Colonel  Mordaunt.  "  The 
carriage  will  hold  all  of  us  and  such  traps  as  you  may  require.  But 
you  will  not  sleep  to-night !     I  warn  you  that  the  whole  night  will 


268  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

be  tafeen  up  with  questions  and  answers.  Look  at  the  moon,  just 
coming  over  the  tree-tops !  The  ride  to  Castledane  will  be  like 
enchantment !" 

"  I  am  a  believer  in  enchantment,"  said  Hyland.  "  When  you 
have  all  told  your  stories  I  will  relate  mine.  I  have  stubbornly  re- 
sisted the  occult  spell  that  has  led  me  along  until  now.  And  now 
I  lay  down  my  arms  and  submit.  When  I  go  back  to  India  I'll 
join  the  fakirs." 

"  You  may  safely  promise  that,  Hyland/'  said  his  brother. 
"  Colonel,  our  engagement  is  with  Mr.  Brentam,  who  was  to  meet 
us  here  to-night.  But  he  sent  an  apology  instead,  and  promises  to 
come  to-morrow  morning.  Some  unexpected  business  took  him  to 
Milford  this  evening." 

"  Have  you  seen  Frank  ?"  said  the  colonel  to  Hyland.  "  He  came 
here  to  meet  you." 

"  I  saw  him  only  a  few  minutes,"  replied  Hyland,  cautiously.  "  I 
think  he  was  going  to  sea  in  his  yacht.    He  said  so  when  we  parted." 

"  Did  you  see  him  at  the  station  ?"  enquired  the  colonel.  "  Glen- 
dare  was  greatly  annoyed  because  he  could  not  find  him." 

"  No.  I  met  him  out  on  the  Downs,"  said  Hyland,  avoiding 
Haidee's  big  eyes. 

"  This  is  a  bad  night  to  go  out  into  the  channel,"  observed  the 
colonel.  "  It  is  very  pleasant  on  land.  But  this  western  breeze  is 
a  half  hurricane  at  sea." 

"  It  is  possible  that  he  took  Mr.  Brentam  to  Milford.  Indeed,  it 
is  quite  probable.  His  note  intimates  as  much.  And  if  the  sea  is 
too  rough,  they  may  wait  at  Milford  for  better  weather." 

"  Have  you  any — engagement — for  this  week  ?"  said  Haidee,  still 
watching  him. 

"  None." 

"  Because  I  was  going  to  ask  you  to  take  your  apparatus  with  you 
to  Castledane.     I  want  three  hundred  views  taken  !" 

"  Ah,  if  I  dared  to  propose  such  a  thing !  But  I  have  all  my 
apparatus  in  my  wagon.  And  I  have  a  gorgeous  pony  that  knows 
every  foot  of  the  road  to  Castledane.  And  the  M-agon  has  a  great 
broad  seat,  cushioned,  that  will  hold  three  persons  comfortably. 
And  the  moon  is  getting  higher  and  brighter  every  moment.  Now, 
if  you  two  charming  ladies  would  go  with  me,  I  would  get  Tommy 
ready  before  the  carriage  arrives " 

"Done!"  said  Aunot,  promptly.  "Away  with  you!  We  shall 
be  ready !" 


THE  PICTURE.  269 

"  But,  Annot !"  said  Lord  Rayneford,  "  I  cannot  go  in  Hyland's 

trap " 

"  No.     But  you  may  drive  behind  us  in  the  carriage." 

"Oh,  yes!"  said  Ilaidee.     "Let  us  go,  my  lord.     It  is  such  a 

duck  of  a  pony.    I  know  him  !    Run,  Mr.  Rayneford,  please!    We 

shall  be  ready." 


CHAPTER    XLV. 
The  Picture. 

WHEN  he  parted  from  Hyland,  Mr.  Frank  Daltman  was  hor- 
ribly demoralised.  He  had  been  under  more  or  less  appre- 
hension for  some  days  previously,  but  the  succinct  account  which 
Hyland  had  announced  was  far  more  elaborate  than  his  worst  fears. 
The  loss  of  his  status  in  society,  the  dishonour  that  would  attach  to 
his  name,  were  formidable  dangers,  and  the  only  exodus  from  the 
impending  disaster  was  just  what  Rayneford  suggested.  He  must 
pass  away,  for  a  time  at  least,  from  the  knowledge  of  all  England. 

As  he  turned  the  corner,  coming  from  the  Downs,  the  omnibus 
that  had  brought  him  from  Bristol  was  just  starting  on  the  return 
trip.  He  climbed  up  to  the  top,  and  sat  in  moody  silence  until  he 
reached  Bristol.  It  was  a  short  distance  to  the  docks.  He  would 
go  down  to  the  yacht.  Entering  the  handsome  cabin,  he  found  his 
uncle,  Mr.  Brentam. 

"  Ah,  Frank  !"  said  Mr.  Brentam.  "  I  was  just  writing  a  note  to 
you.     Your  man  on  deck  there  says  you  are  going  to  sea  to-night." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  it,"  replied  Daltman,  irresolutely. 

"  I  have  to  go  to  Milford,"  said  Mr.  Brentam.  "  The  steamboat 
has  been  gone  an  hour.  There  is  a  brig  going  out  presently,  in  tow 
of  a  tug,  and  the  captain  says  he  can  land  me  at  Milford,  where  he 
drops  the  brig." 

"  He  can  tow  the  "  Juliet"  also,  no  doubt.  The  wind  is  against 
us,  but  from  Milford  Haven  we  have  plenty  of  sea-room.  Where  is 
the  tug  ?" 

"The  captain  is  on  deck  now,  at  least  I  left  him  there  a  minute 
ago." 

Daltman  ascended  the  stair  and  found  the  captain  conversing  with 
his  own  sailing-master.  The  bargain  was  quickly  concluded,  and 
the  delicate  masts  of  the  "  Juliet"  passed  under  the  high  bridge  while 


270  THE  CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

it  was  still  light  enough  for  the  Clifton  loungers  to  distinguish  her 
outline,  Mr.  Brentara  was  accustomed  to  a  half-hour's  nap  after 
dinner,  and  he  betook  himself  to  the  starboard  state-room,  leaving 
Mr.  Daltraan  in  a  reverie  at  the  cabin  table. 

"He  will  get  her,  no  doubt!"  muttered  Daltman,  "and  all  my 
scheming  comes  to  naught.  I  don't  mind  Castledane.  It  is  the 
girl  herself  I  want.  If  I  had  taken  Milly's  advice  I  should  not  have 
been  in  this  mess.  Too  late !  Rayneford  would  tell  the  whole  story. 
But  he  won't  get  Castledane  either.     By  Jove  !  I'll  write  him  !" 

He  drew  the  writing  materials  across  the  table,  and  dashed  off  a 
few  lines. 

"  Dear  Rayneford, — One  good  turn  deserves  another.  I  will 
give  you  a  bit  of  information  that  may  be  valuable  to  you.  H.  can- 
not inherit  the  property.  She  is  not  the  real  daughter.  I  had  this 
from  the  lips  of  the  colonel  himself  to-day.  You  used  to  hold  cer- 
tain theories  about  marrying  for  money.  If  you  still  hold  them, 
you  can  very  safely  venture  to  claim  the  property  which  you  won 
when  we  gambled  for  the  two  in  Calcutta.  You  remember.  You 
may  get  plenty  of  happiness,  but  very  little  tin.  I  tell  you  this  in 
some  small  requital  for  your  advice  to  me  when  we  parted. 

"Yours,  Frank  Daltman." 

He  sealed  the  note  and  addressed  it.  When  Mr.  Brentam's  nap 
was  finished,  he  came  into  the  cabin,  and  Daltman  gave  him  the 
letter  to  mail  at  Milford. 

"  Hyland  ?"  said  his  uncle.  "  No  use  to  mail  it.  I  shall  see  him 
at  Clifton  to-morrow.  I  have  an  appointment  with  Miles,  and 
Hyland  will  be  with  him." 

"Very  well,  uncle,"  replied  Frank.  "And  please  tell  Milly  I 
will  write  her  as  soon  as  I  land.  Do  you  notice  the  increased  swell? 
We  have  gotten  well  down  channel.  Milford  light  must  be  visible 
now." 

An  hour  afterwards  the  tug  cast  off  the  brig,  and  dropping  along- 
side the  "Juliet,"  took  Mr.  Brentam  aboard.  There  was  some 
bungling  over  the  rope  that  held  the  yacht.  The  brig  was  getting 
sails  set,  and  so  was  the  "  Juliet,"  and  the  two  vessels  were  rubbing 
their  hulls  together,  and  while  a  lubber  on  board  the  yacht  was  still 
labouring  over  the  after-line,  Frank  closed  his  own  cabin  hatch  and 
stepped  on  board  the  brig.  There  was  no  little  confusion  on  both 
vessels,  as  the  wind  was  high  and  the  sea  rough.     The  mate  of  the 


THE  PICTURE.  271 

brig  came  aft  with  an  axe  in  his  liand  and  cut  the  entangled  line 
M'itli  one  blow.  The  yacht  drifted  away,  running  northwest,  while 
the  brig,  close-hauled,  took  a  southwest  course. 

Mr.  Daltnian  sjvt  unnoticed  on  the  quarter-deck  another  hour. 
The  impulse  to  leave  the  "Juliet,"  without  a  word  of  warning,  came 
upon  him  suddenly.  He  had  a  good  lot  of  money  in  his  pocket- 
book,  and  could  get  along  several  months  after  he  reached  America. 
The  brig  was  bound  for  New  York.     What  story  should  he  tell? 

"  Hillo,  shipmate  !"  said  a  gruff  voice  at  his  elbow;  "  where  from, 
and  whither  bound  ?" 

"  Ah  !"  answered  Daltman,  coolly,  "where  is  the  captain  ?" 

"  Here,  at  your  sarvice  !"  said  the  other.     "  What  lark  is  this?" 

"No  lark  at  all,  my  dear  captain.  I  am  Mr.  Trelawney,  of 
Brampton,  Cornwall.  My  doctoi-s  have  sent  me  to  sea.  I  was 
going  to  take  a  trip  in  my  friend's  yacht;  but  I  felt  uneasy  about 
her,  as  she  seemed  so  flimsy  when  rubbing  up  against  your  big  ship, 
that  I  just  scrambled  aboard.  Left  my  overcoat  and  portmanteau, 
by  Jove !  In  Daltman's  cabin,  you  know.  We  had  been  wining 
just  moderately,  you  know;  but  my  head  is  not  worth  a  sixpence 
since  I  have  been  ill !  It's  all  right,  you  know.  But  lend  me  an 
overcoat  and  tell  me  how  much  passage-money  you  want.  By  Jove  ! 
Cawn't  you  make  this  infernal  ship  stand  still  a  minute?" 

"  Well,  I'm  blest !"  said  the  captain,  "  if  this  ar'n't  a  devil  of  a  go  ! 
Do  you  know  where  we  are  going  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,  and  don't  care.  You  can  go  to  the  devil  if  you 
like !  By  Jove !  Cawn't  you  turn  the  ship  around,  so  the  water 
won't  shake  her  so  blasted  unpleasantly !  Hi !  I  must  get  some 
place  to  lie  down  !     I  say,  captain,  when  will  you  land?" 

"  In  about  twenty-five  days,  if  we're  lucky,"  answered  the  skipper. 
"I  don't  know  what  to  say  about  this  here  business.  I  have  no 
'commodations  for  passengers.     No  stores  aboard;  no  license " 

"  Blast  the  stores  and  license !"  said  the  passenger,  with  a  hiccough. 
"  Only  take  me  some  place  where  I  can  lie  down !  And  stop  the 
infernal  ship,  or  the  wind.  By  Jove,  what  a  roll  that  was!  I  say, 
captain,  let  me  have  a  drop  of  brandy,  will  you  ?" 

"Here,  mate!"  said  the  captain,  "help  this  gentleman  down. 
Better  give  him  the  berth  next  the  china-closet.  He  has  been  with 
another  gentleman,  and  the  other  one  took  a  little  too  much  wine, 
and  tiiat  makes  this  one  sleepy.     Mr.  Trawny " 

" Trelawney  !"  shouted  the  passenger.  "Don't  cull  a  fellow  out 
of  his  name !" 


272  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Beg  pardon  !"  said  the  captain.     "  Take  my  arm,  sir." 

"  And  here's  your  passage-money !"  continued  Mr.  Trelawney, 
presenting  a  twenty-pound  note.  "  Give  me  the  change  when  you 
stop  this  pitching.  By  Jove !  but  that  was  a  jolly  good  pitch ! 
AVhere  the  devil  is  the  bedstead  ?" 

"  Step  down,  sir,"  said  the  captain,  taking  the  note.  "  Notice, 
mate.  He  has  given  me  twenty  pounds.  Get  him  into  his  berth. 
He'll  be  better  to-morrow." 

Mr.  Brentam  was  interrupted  at  his  breakfast  the  next  morning 
by  a  remark  from  a  gentleman  at  the  adjoining  table. 

"  Storm  last  night ;  did  you  hear  the  house  rattle  ?  Vessel  cast 
away  on  Linton  Sands." 

"  What  sort  o'  vessel  ?"  said  his  companion,  chipping  the  end  of 
his  egg. 

"  Yacht." 

"Any  lives  lost?" 

"  All  lost,  they  say.  Found  three  or  four  bodies.  She  must  have 
struck  near  the  light-house." 

"  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  "  may  I  ask  Avhat 
vessel  you  speak  of?" 

"  Don't  know,  sir,"  replied  the  first  speaker ;  "  old  Jones  came  in 
at  daylight.  His  son  keeps  the  light-house.  He  has  brought  some 
of  the  stuff  that  washed  ashore." 

"  Where  does  he  live?  Where  can  I  see  him?"  asked  Mr.  Bren- 
tam. "  My  nephew  went  out  in  his  yacht  last  night,  and  I  am  in 
terrible  suspense.     Can  you  direct  me  to  this  man  ?" 

"  Nothing  easier,  sir.  Tom,  show  this  gentleman  the  way  to  the  pier. 
Jones  lives  near  the  landing,  sir.     Any  one  can  point  out  his  house." 

The  waiter  accompanied  Mr.  Brentam  to  the  door,  and  pointed 
out  the  direction.  "  Keep  down  this  street,  sir,"  he  said,  "  until  you 
reach  the  pier.  Then  turn  to  the  rigiit,  and  you  will  see  the  steam- 
boat dock.     Jones  lives  within  a  stone's-throw." 

Mr.  Brentam  found  the  house  without  difficulty.  There  was  a 
little  crowd  about  the  door,  and  the  men  moved  aside  to  give  him 
ingress,  and  then  pressed  in  after  him.  Something  in  his  face  told 
them  he  was  interested  in  the  fate  of  the  wrecked  vessel,  and  with 
that  eager  appetite  for  horrors  that  belongs  to  rude  humanity,  they 
watched  for  the  effect  of  the  story  upon  him.  Jones  was  relating 
for  the  twentieth  time  his  experiences  of  the  past  night. 

"She  was  standing  no'thwest  and  by  no'th,"  said  the  narrator; 
"  too  close  to  the  light.     I  saw  her  make  one  tack,  but  she  luffed  up 


THE  PICTURE.  273 

too  soon.  Wind  blowing  lialf  a  gale,  and  more  leeway,  becanse  the 
tide  was  three-quarters  flood.  She  struck  in  the  worst  place  she 
could  pick  out,  on  the  spit  of  sand  off  the  light-house.  I  knew  it 
was  all  up  with  her  then  !  You  see  there  are  two  sets  of  breakers, 
j)art  rock  and  jiart  sand,  deep  water  on  both  sides,  and  her  masts 
went  at  the  first  knock.  The  moon  was  up,  and  I  could  see  her 
chopping  herself  up,  but  could  not  get  out  to  her.  Nothing  could 
live  in  that  bit  of  water  if  the  sea  had  been  calm !" 

"  What  was  her  name  ?"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  pressing  nearer. 
Jones  looked  up  at  him,  enquiringly,  and  handed  his  slate. 

"  Name  of  vessel  ?"  wrote  Mr.  Brentam. 

"Name?"  replied  Jones.  "Couldn't  see  any  name.  No  name 
on  the  bits  of  drift  that  came  ashore.  But  she  looked  to  me  like  a 
craft  that  was  anchored  off  yonder  two  or  three  days  ago.  Masts 
too  tall  and  raked  too  much.  Bad  rig  to  claw  off  a  lee  shore.  I 
can't  say  for  certain,  but  it's  my  belief  she  was  the  'Juliet.'" 

"  Did  nothing  come  ashore  that  could  be  identified  ?"  wrote  Mr. 
Brentam. 

"Not  much,"  replied  Jones.  "A  bit  of  rack  with  brass  hooks 
washed  up,  and  a  coat  hanging  to  one  of  the  hooks.     Here  it  is." 

It  was  a  light  overcoat  made  of  dark -gray  cloth.  Mr.  Brentam 
examined  it  minutely  and  sank  into  a  chair,  pushed  forward  by  a 
sympathising  listener. 

"  This  is  my  nephew's  coat,"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  in  a  husky  voice. 
"  See,  here  is  his  handkerchief,  with  his  initials,  '  F.  D.'  And  here 
is  a  paper,  let  us  dry  it  and  see.  It  is  a  picture.  Stop !  Don't 
handle  it  too  roughly ;  it  will  unfold  when  dry.  Could  not  a 
good  swimmer  get  ashore?     Write  it  on  his  slate  please,  one  of 

you." 

"Swim  ashore !"  said  Jones,  after  reading  the  question.  "Not 
possible !  A  duck  would  be  killed  a  thousand  times  between  that 
spit  and  the  light-house.  No  man  that  was  on  that  yacht  when  she 
struck  was  alive  ten  minutes  afterwards!  Look  at  the  coat!"  and 
he  held  up  the  wet  garment  and  shook  out  the  clinging  folds;  "it 
is  full  of  holes  and  snags,  caught  as  it  bounced  over  the  sharp  rocks. 
Remember,  the  sea  was  pounding  it  upon  the  rocks  with  rollers  ten 
foot  thick  !  I  thought  the  Atlantic  was  coming  in  to  drown  out  the 
light !  The  sea  washed  clean  over  the  top  of  the  tower  twice.  I 
saw  three  or  four  bodies  in  the  smugglers'  channel  as  I  came  through 
this  morning,  but  they  were  all  out  of  reach.  Can  get  at  'em  at 
half  ebb,  maybe." 

18 


274  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

]\Ir.  Brentam  went  back  to  the  hotel,  and  telegraphed  as  follows : 

"From  Brentam,  Milford,  to  Hyland  Rayneford,  St.  Vincent's 
Hotel,  Clifton,  Bristol.  Come  to  me  immediately.  I  am  in  great 
distress,  fearing  Frank  was  wrecked  last  night  on  Linton  Sands." 

During  the  long  hours  that  must  pass  before  Hyland  could  reach 
ISIilford  Mr.  Brentam  went  from  the  hotel  to  the  pier  several  times, 
and  at  last  prevailed  upon  Mr.  Jones  to  brave  the  rough  sea  and 
look  for  the  bodies  of  the  drowned  men.  They  chartered  a  tug,  as 
the  "  Ripple"  could  not  tack  in  the  narrow  lane  of  water,  and  Jones 
undertook  to  steer  through  the  tortuous  smugglers'  channel.  It  was 
in  the  afternoon  when  they  returned  to  Milford,  with  two  bodies — 
all  that  were  left,  and  both  of  them  identified  by  a  dozen  sailors  as 
part  of  the  crew  of  the  "  Juliet."  Mr.  Daltman  had  hired  them  a 
week  before,  at  Milford.     The  sea  refused  to  give  up  any  more. 

Hyland  was  at  the  pier  when  they  landed,  and  met  ^Ir.  Brentam, 
learning  from  his  countenance  that  he  had  abandoned  hope.  They 
walked  silently  to  the  hotel  and  went  up  to  Mr.  Brentam's  room. 
The  tattered  coat  was  hanging  on  a  hook,  and  the  picture,  nearly  dry, 
was  on  the  bureau. 

"  Poor  Frank!"  said  his  uncle.  "By-the-bye,  he  wrote  you  just 
before  we  parted.  Here  is  the  note.  Don't  mind  me !  I'll  take 
off  my  coat  and  lie  down  awhile.  Sit  there  at  the  window,  and  we 
will  order  some  dinner  presently.  That  is  Frank's  coat.  It  was 
washed  ashore  with  a  fragment  of  the  wreck.  When  can  we  go  to 
Clifton  ?" 

"  The  steamboat  will  go  in  an  hour,"  answered  Hylaud. 

"  Well,  I  only  want  fifteen  minutes.  Read  your  note,  and  see 
what  the  poor  boy  says.  I  cannot  resist  this  drowsy  fit !"  And, 
overcome  by  fatigue,  he  was  asleep  before  Hyland  mastered  the  con- 
tents of  the  missive.  He  read  it  eagerly  first,  his  heart  bounding 
with  delicious  joy,  then  read  it  slowly  and  carefully  twice  more.  The 
fifteen  minutes  sped  away  while  he  sat  and  pondered,  and  Mr. 
Brentam  awoke,  and  resumed  his  coat. 

"  We  may  as  well  go  down,"  he  said ;  "  I  will  take  the  coat  with 
me.  Nothing  in  the  pockets  except  his  handkerchief.  Ah,  yes ! 
That  paper.     Unfold  it  carofidly.     Don't  tear  it." 

Hyland  handled  the  paper  with  great  delicacy.  It  was  a  picture, 
and  he  seemed  to  recognise  it,  as  he  parted  the  folds.  As  he  spread 
it  out  on  the  bureau,  he  thought  he  could  feel  his  pulsations  slacken, 
then  stop  altogether.  The  Observatory,  a  woman's  figure  in  the 
foreground,  with  the  face  upturned.    The  paper  was  wrinkled  and  the 


MR.  DANCER.  275 

]iietiire  hopelessly  marred,  but  it  was  undoubtedly  the  same  that  the 
enterprisint;!;  Mr.  Dancer  had  stolon  from  his  lodginij^s. 

^Ir.  ]5rentam  peered  over  his  shoulder,  as  he  j^azed  silently  at  the 
central  figure  in  the  photograph. 

"Good  heavens  !"  said  Mr.  Brentam,  "can  this  be  possible?  It 
is  the  Clifton  Picture !" 


CHAPTER    XLYI. 
Mr.  Dancer. 

OX  the  deck  of  the  "  Prince  of  "Wales"  the  two  gentlemen  con- 
tinued their  conversation.  Hyland  had  restored  the  dam- 
aged picture  as  much  as  possible,  and,  protected  by  cardboard,  it  now 
reposed  beside  its  duplicate  in  his  breast-pocket.  Mr.  Brentam  Mas 
disposed  to  be  communicative,  feeling  specially  attracted  to  Hyland 
because  of  his  intimacy  with  his  lost  nephew. 

"  I  cannot  conceive  how  Frank  obtained  that  picture,"  he  said. 
"  It  was  taken  when  he  was  a  mere  infant,  and  I  saw  it  by — by 
accident  in  the  hands  of  the  husband  of  the  lady.  They  were  not 
married  then,  but  very  shortly  afterwards." 

"  By  this  light !"  said  Hyland,  abruptly,  "  I  begin  to  see  through 
this  mystery  !     Whose  picture — who  is  the  lady  ?" 

"  She  was  Miss  Mordaunt,"  replied  Mr.  Brentam,  "the  sister  of 
Colonel  Mordaunt.    She  married  Windham  Dale  of  Dale's  Manor." 

Hyland  took  a  parcel  from  his  pocket,  carefully  enveloped  in 
tissue-paper,  which  he  removed.  He  handed  the  enclosure  to  his 
companion  without  speaking. 

"  Ah,  yes  !"  said  Mr.  Brentam.  "  That  is  she !  Annot  Mordaunt. 
Frank's  picture  is  so  much  soiled  that  you  would  scarcely  recognise 
the  identity.     But  I  knew  it  at  once." 

"This  is  Annot  Mordaunt.  Then  Annot  Dale?"  said  Hyland, 
looking  curiously  at  the  worn  face  of  Mr.  Brentam. 

"Yes." 

"  But  the  other  is  not  Annot  Mordaunt !  It  is  Haidee  Mordaunt, 
the  daughter  of  the  colonel." 

"Impossible!"  said  Mr.  Brentam.  "Colonel  Mordaunt  has  no 
daughter !  Never  repeat  what  I  tell  you.  I  know  he  is  childless. 
The  two  girls  are  both  adopted." 

"You  know  Miles  is  married?"  said  Hyland. 


276  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Yes.  He  wrote  me  from  Queenstown,  saying  lie  had  brought 
a  Lady  Rayneford  from  America.  An  English  girl,  I  think  lie 
said." 

"  Her  name  was  Annot  Mordaunt  Dale,"  said  Hyland.  "  Her 
father,  "Windham  Dale,  is  with  her.  And  Miles  has  the  duplicate  of 
that  picture.  I  have  compared  them.  And  she  and  her  lather  are 
at  Castledane  to-day.  This  other  picture  I  took  with  these  hands, 
less  than  ten  days  ago.     It  is  Haidee  Mordaunt,     I  put  that  picture 

in  her  hands  three  or  four  days  ago.     How  Frank  got  it Ah ! 

that  is  the  question  !     And  who  can  answer  it  ?" 

"  Poor  Frank  !"  said  Mr.  Brentam.  "  You  were  his  friend,  and 
I  may  tell  you.  His  heart  was  set  on  getting  Castledane,  and  I 
think  he  cherished  a  sincere  admiration  for  this  young  lady.  But 
she  could  not  inherit  Castledane !  I  will  tell  you  another  secret. 
Lady  Rayneford  is  the  only  woman  alive  who  can  inherit  that  es- 
tate. The  entail  is  one  of  the  most  curious  pieces  of  legal  twisting 
I  ever  encountered.  But  it  ends  with  the  present  generation.  Mor- 
daunt owns  it  now.  But  Mordaunt  cannot  sell  a  foot  of  it.  I  feel 
impelled  to  tell  you  another  secret.  Some  day  you  may  reveal  it  to 
Miles.  Windham  Dale  did  me  a  cruel  injustice,  ignorantly,  I  be- 
lieve, but  most  cruel !  I  have  felt  resentful  for  twenty-five  years, 
but  my  anger  is  dead  now.  I  held  all  the  deed  he  could  give  to  his 
estate — Dale's  Manor.  But  it  was  swallowed  up  in  mortgages,  and 
I  laboriously  strove  to  clear  away  the  encumbrances  from  the  date 
of — well,  from  the  day  that  pictiire  was  taken  until  the  day  he  sailed 
for  America,  leaving  an  insulting  message  for  me.  I  am  not  in  the 
habit  of  parading  my  motives — you  know  this.  But  my  sole  motive 
was  to  perfect  his  title  for — his  wife's  sake.  The  foolish  man 
thought  I  coveted  his  inheritance.  And  he  was  fiery  and  rash,  and 
Annot  was  misled  by  him,  and  I  was  too  proud  to  make  explana- 
tions. Dane  Mordaunt  knew,  but  he  died  in  India.  I  had  sworn 
him  to  secrecy  before  I  revealed  my  plans.  I  had  to  take  possession 
of  Dale's  Manor  because  the  claimants,  a  crew  of  cormorants,  would 
never  come  to  equitable  terms  with  Dale,  a  man  born  to  be  cheated. 
It  was  quite  another  thing  to  deal  with  the  owner  of  Brentam  Mills. 
Remember  all  this,  and  do  me  justice,  Hyland,  when  opportunity 
serves.     Here  is  the  landing.     We  take  the  train  here." 

"  Let  us  go  to  Castledane,  Mr.  Brentam,"  said  Hyland,  gently. 
He  was  deeply  moved  by  the  evident  distress  of  his  companion,  who 
appeared  ten  years  older  since  he  parted  from  him  in  London,  only 
a  week  or  two  past. 


MR.  DANCER.  277 

"Not  now,"  replietl  Mr.  Breiitaiu.  "  I  am  going  to  Somerset  to- 
night. jNIakc  my  excuses  to  Miles,  and  tell  him  to  wait  at  Castle- 
dane  for  mc.  And  ask  Plimpton  to  follow  me  to  Brentam  Villa.  I 
am  not  equal  to  any  business  just  now." 

liyland  waited  upon  jNIr.  Brentam  with  assiduous  attention  until 
his  train  departed.  Returning  to  the  hotel  at  Clifton,  lie  found  Zeba 
■waiting  for  him,  with  his  photographer's  wagon  and  Tommy.  The 
latter  was  lazily  switehing  the  flics  from  his  flanks,  and  endeavour- 
ing to  extract  some  meaning  from  Zeba's  prolonged  discourse,  still  in 
his  memory.  The  Hindoo  had  talked  and  sung  to  him  all  the  way 
from  Castledane,  and  had  thoughtlessly  confined  himself  to  Hin- 
doostanee.  Hyland  had  left  Mr.  Brentiim's  despatch  for  the  colonel 
when  he  took  the  train  for  Milford,  and  Zeba  brought  him  a  reply 
from  Castledane,  bidding  him  bring  Mr.  Brentam  with  him,  if 
the  latter  accompanied  him  to  Clifton. 

Going  back,  sometimes  by  the  highway  and  sometimes  through 
verdant  lanes.  Tommy  selecting  the  route,  Hyland  meditated  upon 
the  rapidly  nioving  events  of  the  past  two  weeks.  That  picture  in 
Frank's  pocket !  This  was  the  knotty  point,  coming  back  constantly 
and  demanding  solution.  Did  she  give  Frank  the  picture?  Why 
not?  Frank  had  rescued  her  from  Linton  Sands,  and  had  been  in 
her  society  ever  since.  He  had  been  with  her  on  the  long  voyage 
from  Calcutta.  He  was  a  handsome  fellow,  very  brilliant  in  con- 
versation, and,  above  all,  in  the  army,  though  only  a  subaltern.  A 
man  with  these  advantages  and  owner  of  a  good  estate  was  entirely 
eligible  anywhere.  How  could  he  be  in  daily  intercourse  with  that 
lovely  girl  and  fail  to  love  her  ?  Alas  !  poor  Frank  did  not  know 
what  love  meant.  But  Haidee  would  readily  give  credence  to  his 
professions,  and  might  easily  love  Frank  !     "  Poor  Frank  !" 

He  uttered  the  last  words  aloud,  and  Zeba,  who  had  waited  with 
heroic  patience  for  a  word  from  him,  answered : 

"Colonel  Sahib  say  Daltman  Sahib  drown?" 

"  I  fear  he  was  drowned,  Zeba,"  replied  Hyland ;  "  indeed,  it  is 
nearly  certain.     His  yacht  was  wrecked,  and  he  was  aboard." 

"  Not  drown  !"  said  Zeba,  coolly. 

'*  The  vessel  went  to  pieces,"  answered  Hyland,  looking  with 
surprise  in  the  stolid  face  of  the  Hindoo;  "and  several  bodies  were 
found." 

"  Daltman  Sahib  not  found  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Daltman  Sahib  not  drown,"  repeated  Zeba. 


278  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Zeba?"  said  Hyland,  turning  in  his  seat 
and  facing  him. 

"Water  not  drown  Daltman  Sahib,"  answered  Zeba,  senten- 
tiously.     "  If  Lord  Hyland  put  him  in  water,  then  drown." 

"I  put  him  in  water?     I  drown  my  friend?" 

"  Not  friend  !  Enemy  !  Sahib  Hyland  Lord  of  tulwar.  Tul- 
war say  Daltman  not  drown.  Life  belong  to  Lord  Hyland.  If  he 
say.  Live,  Daltman  not  drown  !" 

"This  is  most  extraordinary!"  muttered  Hyland.  "Am  I  never 
to  get  rid  of  that  tulwar  ?     Has  it  told  you  anything  else  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  Hindoo,  with  undisturbed  gravity.  "  Tulwar 
say  sahib  lord  of  Beebe.     Sahib  want  Beebe?     Take  her!" 

"By  this  light!"  said  Hyland,  the  blood  rushing  to  his  cheek 
and  brow,  "this  is  perilous  talk,  Zeba.  Have  you  said  this  to — - 
any  one  else?" 

"  Zeba  have  no  tongue.  Sahib  call  Zeba  friend.  Friend  talk  to 
friend  only." 

As  they  rolled  along  over  the  smooth  road.  Tommy  putting  forth 
his  best  efforts,  Hyland  glanced  occasionally  at  the  placid  face  of  his 
companion.  He  was  eager  to  ask  a  dozen  questions,  but,  with  the 
rare  delicacy  of  the  thorough  gentleman,  he  shrank  from  the  mention 
of  Haidee's  name,  since  Zeba  had  so  openly  coupled  it  with  his  own. 
And  Zeba  waited  with  the  patience  of  the  true  philosopher,  knowing 
that  Hyland  would  renew  the  conversation,  if  he  gave  him  time 
enough. 

"  The  tulwar !"  said  Hyland,  at  last.  "  How  does  the  tulwar  tell 
you — these  things  ?     Do  you  ask  ?" 

"  Ask,  but  not  with  tongue.  Ask  Avith  soul,"  said  Zeba  in  reply. 
"  Tulwar  not  know  language.  Not  know  Pracrit.  But  know  what 
mind  say.  When  mind  ask,  where  Lord  Hyland  this  morning? 
tulwar  say,  Milford.  When  mind  ask,  where  Daltman  ?  tulwar  say, 
out  on  sea.  Mind  know  Daltman  want  fight — want  fight  Lord  Hy- 
land. INIind  think  Lord  Hyland  fight  now  when  Daltman  ask  him. 
Mind  know  Daltman  steal  Beebe  away.  Mind  say  Lord  Hyland 
kill  enemy.     Ask  tulwar.     Tulwar  say,  no  fight,  no  kill!" 

Hyland  rode  silently  on,  cogitating  the  metaphysical  problem. 
The  acute  perceptions  of  the  Hindoo  had  revealed  so  many  truths 
to  him  that  it  was  difficult  to  think  of  him  as  the  victim  of  a  super- 
stition so  baseless  as  his  faith  in  the  tulwar.  It  never  occurred 
to  Hyland  to  suspect  Zeba's  sincerity.  And,  in  fact,  sincerity 
always   commands   credence.      You   may   doubt  the   accuracy   of 


MR.  DANCER.  279 

statement  Avhen  you  have  unswerving  faith  in  the  truthfuhiess  of 
the  si)eaker. 

"  There  are  only  two  entities— matter  and  force,"  thought  Hyland. 
"The  phenomena  of  matter  are  various,  but  generally  scrutable. 
Force  is  too  vague  a  term.  It  may  mean  the  attraction  of  gravita- 
tion. But  that  may  also  be  a  property  of  matter.  It  may  mean  the 
overbearing  power  of  affection.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  mental 
force.  The  mind  moves  the  muscles,  but  the  muscles  wield  the 
tulwar.  Can  the  mind  reach  the  tulwar  without  the  intermediate 
agency  ?" 

"  When  we  sail  from  Calcutta,"  observed  Zeba,  as  if  replying  to 
his  thoughts,  "  the  ship  go  far  from  land.  Cloud  hide  sun.  Cloud 
hide  stars.  But  ship  know  how  to  sail,  because  little  steel  tulwar 
point  north.     Docs  captain  make  tulwar  always  say  north  ?" 

"  You  might  as  well  ask  if  the  miller  makes  the  water  run  down 
hill,"  said  Hyland.     "  Who  is  this  ?" 

"  Red-eye  man,"  answered  Zeba. 

They  were  within  sight  of  Castledane,  and  Tommy,  who  approved 
of  the  stable  appliances  there,  was  surpassing  himself;  neverthele-ss 
he  stopped  when  Mr.  Dancer  stood  in  the  road  with  his  hand  up. 

"  Good  evening !"  said  the  detective,  with  an  awkward  effort  to 
appear  at  ease.  "  I  thought  I  might  meet  you  here,  Mr.  Rayneford, 
and  I  waited." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Hyland.  "  I  cannot  go  with  you  this  time.  If  you 
have  a  warrant,  produce  it,  and  my  friend  here  will  cut  off  the  hand 
that  presents  it." 

"  Pooh  !"  said  Mr.  Dancer,  as  Zeba  showed  eight  or  ten  inches  of 
steel ;  "  put  up  your  chopper  !  I  have  no  warrant.  And  if  I  had 
I  would  serve  it  all  the  same,  if  you  had  six  swords.?  There  was 
so  much  genuine  pluck  in  Mr.  Dancer's  attitude  that  both  Hyland 
and  Zeba  were  impressed. 

"  I  am  willing  to  own  that  I  made  a  bad  mess  of  that  business," 
said  Mr.  Dancer.  "  But  I  had  three  strings  in  hand  at  once.  I 
wanted  somebody  that  stole  some  money.  I  wanted  somebody  that 
stole  Lord  Rayneford,  and  I  wanted  somebody  that  carried  off  the 
lady.  I  thought  you  might  do  for  one  of  the  three.  But  I  should 
not  think  so  now.  Cawn't  you  make  some  allowance  for  a  fellow  who 
was  trying  to  do  his  duty?" 

"  Certainly  !"  answered  Hyland,  promptly.  "  There's  my  hand  ! 
I  bear  no  malice.  Will  you  climb  up  here  and  ride  ?  There  is  room 
enough." 


280  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Dancer.  "  I  am  going  tlie  otlier  way. 
But  if  you  will  get  down  and  walk  with  me  a  little  way,  I'll  be 
obliged." 

Hyland  threw  his  leg  over  the  side,  stepped  upon  the  wheel,  and 
joined  the  detective  on  terra  fiiirna. 

"Go  on,  Tommy  !"  he  said  ;  "  we  will  follow  you.  Wait  for  me 
at  the  head  of  the  lane,  Zeba." 

"I  thought  I  would  just  tell  you,  Mr.  Rayneford,"  said  Mr. 
Dancer,  snapping  his  eyes  viciously.  "  You  might  have  played  the 
devil  with  me  about  that  Clifton  thing.  But  you  didn't !  Mr. 
Plimpton  is  cross  as  a  bear  !  And  I  am  dead  beat  anyhow.  You 
swells  are  a  hard  lot !     May  I  tell  you  something  in  confidence?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  so  desire,"  answered  Hyland ;  "  but  I  think  I 
prefer " 

"Won't  mention  names,  sir.  I  thought  you  had  carried  off 
the  lady.  Now  I  know  you  didn't.  And  I  know  who  did.  But 
he  was  smart  enough  to  make  proof  very  difficult.  I  could  have 
got  a  full  confession  from  Tom  Jones,  but  some  cove  has  been  ahead 
of  me,  and  pumped  him  dry  and  then  greased  him." 

"  Greased  him  ?"  said  Hyland. 
-  "  Yes.     Bribed,  or  hired,  or  whatever  you  please.     Any  M'ay,  I 
know  who  did  the  carrying  off,  and  I  suspect  somebody  else,  who 
has  been  covering  up  the  tracks.     I  won't  name  any  names,  sir. 

"But  I've  got  a  bit  of  news,  maybe.  And  if  you  say  so,  I'll  tell 
you  and  nobody  else.  It's  not  against  law,  for  law  cawn't  reach  this 
case,  without  extradition  papers.  And  I  judge  it's  a  matter  for 
pistols  and  ten  paces,  rather  than  law,  any  way.  The  man  who 
stole  the  lady  went  down  channel  last  night.  I  wanted  to  see  where 
he  went,  so  I  turned  into  a  tug-hand.  Tug  carried  an  American 
brig  down  the  channel  in  the  same  tow.  When  I  cast  off  from  the 
brig,  I  saw  a  man  come  out  of  the  cabin  of  the  other  vessel,  and  I 
watched  him.  Before  the  brig  got  clear  of  the  little  schooner  that 
man  got  aboard  the  brig.  I  saw  him  squat  down,  while  the  yacht — 
I  mean  the  schooner — slipped  away.  The  schooner  was  wrecked ; 
all  hands  lost.  The  brig  is  south  of  Ireland  now,  on  the  Atlantic, 
and  the  lady-stealer  is  aboard.     That's  all." 

Hyland  listened  with  profound  interest.  The  red  eyes  snapped 
once  or  twice,  and  then  fell  into  repose. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Rayneford,  if  this  news  is  interesting  to  you,  you're 
welcome.  And  we  can  say  quits  about  that  Clifton  fizzle.  Never 
did  such  a  Tomfool  of  a  trick  since  I've  been  in  the  force !     If 


HYLAND'S  PERPLEXITIES.  281 

you  say  the  word,  I'm  mum  about  this  business  till  you  tell  me  to 
speak.'' 

"  My  friend, "  said  Ilyland,  "  your  discretion  charms  me.  Oblige 
me  bv  investing  this  trifle" — and  he  slipped  a  twenty-pound  note 
into  Mr.  Dancer's  hand — "  in  any  souvenir  you  may  fancy.  And 
when  we  meet  again,  I'll — take  your  photograph !     Good  day  !" 


CHAPTER    XLVII. 
Hyland's  Perplexities. 

MRS.  IIICKS,  the  housekeeper  at  Hawkley,  had  written  Lord 
Rayneford  begging  him  to  defer  his  return  a  few  days,  as 
the  "  house  was  upside  down."  The  carpets  would  be  down  within 
a  week,  and  she  particularly  desired  "  my  lady,"  to  whom  she  sent 
her  declaration  of  allegiance,  should  receive  a  pleasant  impression 
of  Hawkley  upon  her  arrival.  There  was  a  postscrii)t,  in  which  she 
entreated  my  lord  to  prevent  the  return  of  Master  Hyland  to  India. 
The  letter  was  delivered  to  Annot,  of  course;  and  Annot — also  of 
course — sought  Hyland  immediately,  and  invited  his  attention  to  the 
missive. 

He  was  alone  in  the  library,  and  Lady  Rayneford  had  a  clear 
field. 

"  Welcome,  sister  !"  he  said,  rising  and  placing  her  in  the  luxurious 
arm-chair  he  vacated.  "  Just  try  this  abominable  chair !  It  is  a  snare 
of  the  enemy  to  put  such  luxuries  in  a  fellow's  way." 

"  It  is  quite  an  innocent  luxury,"  answered  Annot.  "  Bring  the 
other  chair  ;  I  want  some  conversation  with  you.  It  is  a  far  greater 
luxury,  Hyland,  to  call  you  brother !  I  have  longed  for  a  brother 
all  my  life!" 

There  was  undoubted  pathos  in  her  tone,  and  Hyland  was  touched 
by  it. 

"  My  lord  longed  for  you  also,"  she  continued.  "  All  the  days  we 
were  at  sea  he  talked  of  you,  and  concocted  plans  to  get  you  home. 
How  fortunate  we  are  to  have  you,  without  the  delay  of  the  long 
voyage !  Promise  to  stay,  Hyland.  Nothing  else  will  quiet  my 
jealousy  !  I  do  not  object  to  the  eagerness  with  which  Miles  seeks 
your  society  so  long  as  I  also  am  within  reach." 

"  Old  Miles  sent  you  ?"  said  Hyland,  half  interrogatively. 


282  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  No.  We  have  talked  about  your  return  to  India,  certainly,  but 
there  is  no  conspiracy  between  us.  He  says  you  are  talking  about 
the  date  of  your  return,  and  he  is  greatly  troubled." 

"  Those  cinchona  plantations  I"  replied  Hyland.  "  I  am  enthusi- 
astic about  them.  Just  think  of  England  making  her  own  quinia ! 
And  the  surveys  there  are  very  important.  I  wrote  a  paper  upon 
the  Himalayan  flora  while  I  was  at  sea,  and  I  got  ten  pounds  for  it 
yesterday.  It  will  be  printed  next  week  in  the  'Journal  of  Arbori- 
culture.'    You  must  read  it." 

"  If  the  cinchona  plantations  were  in  England " 

"  Would  not  grow  here !"  promptly  answered  Hyland.  "  You 
must  have  suitable  climate  and  soil,  and  also  a  special  altitude." 

"  But,  if  these  trees  could  be  cultivated  here,"  persisted  Annot, 
"  are  there  other  attractions  in  India  for  you  ?" 

Hyland  sat  in  silence,  meditating,  stealing  furtive  glances  at  her 
honest  face. 

"  You  wish  me  to  stay,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  because  Miles  wants  me. 
Oh,  yes !  I  know  what  you  would  say.  You  were  kind  enough 
to  think  you  would  keep  me  for  my  own  sake.  And  I  don't  know 
how  a  fellow  would  feel  towards  a  real  sister,  but  I  don't  believe 
I  could  love  a  twin  sister  more  than  I  love  you."  And  he  took  her 
hand  in  his.  "  And  now  to  show  you  how  sincere  my  affection  is — 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth.  I  could  easily  relinquish 
India.  Indeed,  the  object  for  which  I  went  out  there  is  already 
attained.  I  only  wanted  enough  money  to  pay  Hawkley's  debts ! 
Don't  you  dare  tell  this !  But  that  was  my  solitary  object.  And 
now  Miles  has  gone  and  done  it  for  himself!  He  has  made  more 
money  by  one  adventure  than  I  could  make  in  ten  years.  But  I 
want  India  now  because  I  have  a — an  ailment,  which  won't  get  well 
if  I  stay  here.  Don't  open  your  eyes  in  that  fashion  !  It  is  a  mental 
ailment.  I  have  been  reading  Kant  for  two  days,  and  it  all  seems 
like  rubbish  to  me !  I  spent  one  day  over  Descartes.  It  appears 
to  be  worse  rubbish  than  Kant's  philosophy  !  Xow  you  know  a 
fellow  could  not  get  into  that  sort  of  a  mess  unless  there  were  some 
serious  defect  in  his  mental  organism  !" 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  !"  replied  Annot.  "  I  don't  know  any- 
thing about  Kant  or  Descartes.  Has  any  other  philosophy  attracted 
you  and  crowded  them  out  ?" 

"  No  !"  answered  Hyland,  with  profound  disgust.  '^  That  is  just 
the  trouble !  If  I  had  any  new  theories  I  should  not  be  disturbed. 
But  I  have  looked  at  this  thing  objectively,  and  find  nothing  about 


HYLANUS  PERPLEXITIES.  283 

it.     I  try  to  examine  it  subjectively,  and  my  mind  goes  off  from  the 
emotional  to  tiie  objective  in  spite  of  my  best  eiforts!" 

''  If  you  would  only  talk  English,"  said  Annot,  "I  might  under- 
stand you.  If  what  you  have  just  said  comes  out  of  Kant  or 
Descartes,  I  think  you  exhibit  true  sanity  when  you  call  it — 
rubbish  !" 

"  By  this  light !"  said  Hyland,  stunned. 

"  If  you  mean  to  say  there  is  a  side  of  your  mental  organism  that 
demands  other  food  than  ]nire  philosophy — that  is  sense !" 

"Sister,"  said  Hyland,  humbly,  "you  are  a  stunner!"' 

"  Please  tell  me  what  ails  you.  Perhaps  I  can  aid  you.  Perhaps 
I  know  some  things  you  have  never  learned." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Hyland,  drawing  his  chair  nearer,  "I  will 
unbosom  myself.  I  am  bewildered  whenever  I  see  Zeba,  whose  one 
eye  has  a  glare  of  fiendish  triumph  in  it  whenever  I  catch  his  glance. 
He  has  done  some  tricks  of  legerdemain  which  defy  scrutiny.  I  am 
obliged  to  confess  myself  floored.  Then,  a  crazy  fellow  whom  I  met 
near  this  spot  a  few  weeks  ago  announced  a  sort  of  prophecy  about 
the  consequence^  of  taking  a  certain  picture.  I  took  that  picture, 
and — the  prophecy  clings  to  me  like  the  shirt  of  Nessus  !  I  firmly 
resolved  to  burn  the  picture  two  nights  in  succession — last  night 
and  the  previous  night.  But  I  cannot  burn  it !  And  that  Mephis- 
topheles  of  a  Hindoo  has  announced  a  totally  distinct  prophecy, 
which  has  precisely  the  same  termination.  I  hnow  both  prophecies 
are  false ;  but,  by  this  light !  they  have  taken  my  soul  captive. 
The  only  escape  for  me  is  India !  There,  if  I  get  there — if  I  can 
tear  myself  away  from  you  and  Miles  and — these  luxurious  chairs 
— there  I  should  be  a  man  again  !" 

"  Where  is  the  picture?"  said  Annot.     "Can  I  see  it?" 

"  Heh  !"  said  Hyland,  aghast. 

"  The  picture !"  said  Annot,  quietly.     "  Let  me  see  it,  brother." 

"  That  last  word  does  it !"  muttered  Hyland,  fumbling  in  his 
breast-pocket  and  draw'ing  forth  the  j)icture.  The  sunlight  coming 
in  through  crimson  curtains  cast  quite  a  glow  upon  his  face  as  he 
handed  the  picture.  Annot  studied  it  carefully  with  undisturbed 
composure. 

"  It  is  very  beautiful,"  she  said,  at  length,  "  very  like,  and  very 
innocent.  I  will  keep  it,  Hyland,  and  break  one  of  the  charms. 
Or,  if  you  will  sell  it,  I  will  give  you  your  price  for  it.  Perhaps, 
if  you  reduce  the  affair  to  a  money  transaction,  it  will  be  still  more 
eftective."     She  laid  the  picture  on  the  arm  of  her  chair  and  drew 


284  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

out  her  purse.  Hyland  snatched  up  the  photograph  and  replaced  it 
in  his  pocket. 

"  What  I  tell  you  now,  sister,"  he  said,  in  husky  accents,  "  comes 
from  the  core  of  ray  heart!  I  could  love  this  maiden — oh,  how 
easily  ! — if  I  dared.  But  I  dare  not,  and  I  must  get  some  thousands 
of  miles  of  sea  between  her  and  me.  First,  I  thought  she  owned 
this  lovely  paradise,  and  then  I  found  she  was  not  the  colonel's  real 
daughter,  and  thought  I  might  venture  to  offer  myself  and  my  little 
fortune.  Then  I  found  the  duplicate  of  this  picture  (which  I  gave 
her)  in  another  fellow's  possession.  Then  the  colonel  told  me — 
only  to-day — that  Glendare — my  friend  Glendare — had  hinted  his 
desire  to  enter  the  lists — to  court  Haidee !" 

"  And  have  you  asked  Haidee,  or  the  colonel,  or  Mr.  Glendare,  or 
the  other  fellow  who  had  the  picture  ?" 

"  Certainly  not !  Do  you  think  I  am  mad  ?  Hush  !  There  is 
old  Miles  at  the  door !" 

Anuot  turned  her  head  and  beckoned  Lord  Rayneford  into  the 
room.  She  took  his  arm  to  fulfil  an  engagement  made  at  breakfast, 
to  walk  to  the  ruin.  As  she  passed  Hyland  she  leayed  forward  and 
kissed  his  burning  forehead. 

'^Oh,  you  great,  overgrown  ninny  !"  she  whispered.  "  Come  on, 
my  lord.     Good  morning,  brother!" 

"  Miles  is  in  no  end  of  a  mess  !"  said  Hyland,  as  the  couple  sailed 
out  on  the  lawn.  "  He  has  gone  and  married  a  regular  she-hyena. 
Poor  old  Miles !  But  somehow  the  little  dev — duck,  I  mean,  has 
comforted  me.  What  iho.  deuce  did  she  call  me  a  ninny  for?  Who 
is  this?" 

Zeba,  in  white  turbau  and  scarlet  jacket,  marching  up  from  the 
stables,  chanting  his  favourite  ode,  and  tapping  the  hilt  of  the  tulwar 
to  emphasize  each  stanza.  Hyland  goes  out  on  the  lawn  to  meet 
him. 

"  Salaam,  sahib !" 

"  Ram,  ram  !"  answered  Hyland.     "  Where  is  Daltman  ?" 

Zeba  bowed,  and  waved  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  a  giant  oak 
that  stands  upon  the  wide  lawn.  Hyland  walked  down  under  its 
shadoAV,  and  the  Hindoo  followed.  Beneath  the  spreading  branches 
Zeba  whirled  his  sword  from  the  scabbard,  cutting  right,  left,  up- 
ward and  downward,  and  then  threw  the  weapon  up,  caught  it  in 
descent,  produced  a  cord  from  his  pocket,  and  suspended  the  sword 
from  an  overhanging  bough. 

"Sahib  turn  tulwar,"  said  he,  with  another  genuflexion;  "sahib 


EYLANHS  PERPLEXITIES.  285 

think  Hindoo  play  trick.  Turn  tulwar  as  sun  turn,  and  ask  for 
Daltman.     Not  with  voice.     But  ask  with  mind." 

Hyland  twisted  the  weapon  from  east  to  west,  and  as  it  swung 
around,  Zeba  squatted  down  near  the  trunk,  resuminj^  iiis  chant. 
Ilyland  stood  by  and  waited.  AVhen  the  revolutions  ceased  the 
Hindoo  produced  his  compass  and  chart,  and  spread  the  latter  out 
upon  the  grass,  beneath  the  motionless  blade.  liyland  examined 
the  chart,  which  was  accurately  adjusted  in  accordance  with  the 
points  of  the  compass. 

"  Now  supposing  all  this  to  be  real,"  muttered  Hyland,  as  he 
sighted  along  the  blade,  "the  ship  might  be  at  latitude  40,  long- 
itude 20  west.  And  that  is  about  the  locality  that  was  in  my 
mind." 

He  walked  back  to  the  library,  and  wrote  the  following  note : 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Brextam, — I  have  reason  to  think  your  nephew 
was  not  on  board  the  yacht  at  the  time  of  the  wreck.  We  cannot 
ol)tain  certain  information  for  three  or  four  weeks,  but  while  I  do 
not  assert  positively  that  he  is  alive  and  well,  T  have  no  doubt  of 
the  fact  myself,  and  I  write  this  to  relieve  your  mind  and  to  awaken 
your  hope.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  say  more,  but  beg  you  to  trust 
me,  and  wait  a  few  weeks  for  more  positive  information. 

"  Very  truly  yours,  Hyland  Rayneford." 

"  There !"  said  Hyland,  as  he  sealed  the  note,  and  dropped  it  in 
the  mail-bag.  "  This  is  based  upon  ]\Ir.  Dancer's  revelations,  of 
course.  Also,  upon  my  knowledge  of  Frank's  character.  As  for 
that  mummery  out  under  the  oak — it  was  devilish  curious,  to  say 
the  least!  AVhat  did  Annot  mean  by  calling  me  such  opprobrious 
names?  Does  she  think  I  should  demand  categorical  explanations 
from  everybody  ?  Why  did  she  offer  to  buy  my  picture  ?  Tiiere 
goes  Glendare !  I'll  collar  him,  by  the  light !"  And  he  darted  out 
after  the  ex-missionary. 

"  My  dear  Hyland,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  "  I  have  been  seeking 
you.  Let  us  walk  to  the  brook.  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 
And  he  hooked  his  arm  in  Rayncford's. 

"  Now  it  is  coming  !"  thought  Hyland. 

"Hyland,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  "'l  think  I  shall  marry." 

"  Wish  you  joy,  llamish,"  answered  his  friend. 

"But  I  wish  you  to  follow  my  example.  Give  up  India  and 
take  a  wife." 


286  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Well,"  answered  Hyland,  "let  me  see  how  it  agrees  with  you 
first.     Have  you — settled  the  preliminaries?'^ 

"  I  decided  six  years  ago,"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  "  but  I  have  been 
obliged  to  wait.  Now  I  am  a  landed  proprietor,  and  am  ready  to 
marry.  I  am  building  a  chapel  at  Glendare,  and  shall  be  Rector 
as  well  as  Laird.  And  I  look  forward  to  a  life  of  unmixed  happi- 
ness and  increasing  usefulness." 

"  And  the  lady — whoever  she  may  be  ?  Did  she  suggest  all  these 
plans?  It  seems  to  me  that  I  heard  you  discourse  eloquently  once 
about  the  predestined  partner,  the  one  woman  in  all  the  world,  and 
so  forth.     Do  you  still  hold  the  theory  then  advanced  ?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Glendare,  promptly.  '* There  is  but 
one  woman  in  the  world  that  can  attract  me.  If  I  cannot  win  her, 
I  shall  not  try  to  win  another." 

"  Win  ?"  said  Hyland.  "  Are  you  not  secure  ?  Have  you  been 
six  years  courting  without  any  token  of  success  ?  What  the — deuce 
do  you  mean  ?" 

"I  am  not  exactly  certain,"  replied  the  Scot,  "except  upon  gen- 
eral grounds.  I  know  there  is  no  doubt  about  my  choice  being 
made,  or  about  its  finality.  And  I  believe  when  an  honest  man 
reaches  this  conclusion  he  assumes  a  sort  of  proprietorship  over  the 
woman  he  loves.  But  she  has  had  a  passing  fancy  for  another — 
and  she  is  just  now  distressed  about  Frank,  and  I  cannot  be  very 
urgent  on  these  accounts.     She  was  fond  of  Frank." 

"And  he  was  the  other  fellow?"  suggested  Hyland. 

"  No — that  is — I  think  not.  I  thought  it  might  be  Mr.  Hyland 
Eayneford." 

"  Hamish,"  said  Hyland,  reddening,  "  where  did  you  get  that 
insane  idea?" 

"  I  took  occasion  to  tell  her  that  your  affections — if  you  had  any 
— were  elsewhere  placed " 

"  The  devil  you  did  !     Excuse  me,  and  proceed." 

"  Oh,  I  did  not  violate  any  confidence.  She  and  I  were  vying 
with  each  other  in  sounding  your  praises.  I  told  her  some  things 
in  your  favour  which  she  did  not  know,  and  she  told  me  many  that 
I  did  know.  Her  chief  theme  was  your  unvarying,  unselfish  kind- 
ness. And  we  agreed  that  she  would  be  a  happy  woman  who  won 
your  love.  And  at  this  point  I  merely  suggested  that  you  were, 
perhaps,  nay — probably — about  to " 

"  Would  you  mind,"  said  Hyland,  white  with  rage,  "  would  you 
be  so  kind  as  to  arrange  the  matter  for  me  ?     You  know  so  well  all 


TO  BRENTAM  MILLS.  287 

ray  attachments,  preferences,  and  virtues,  that  yon  can  manage  far 
better  than  I  could." 

Mr.  Glendare  was  near-sighted,  and  did  not  discover  liis  friend's 
heat. 

'*  Arrange  for  you  !"  he  answered,  drawing  away  his  arm  indig- 
nantly. "  Certainly  not !  If  I  did  not  think  you  were  joking,  I  be- 
lieve I'd  knock  you  down  !  You  great  long-legged  ninny  !  Have 
you  not  enough  pluck  to  state  your  own  case?  However,  I  am 
glad  you  said  it.  I'll  toll  :Mildred  to-morrow.  Every  word,  you 
vagabond !" 

"  Mildred  ?"  said  Hyland,  confused. 

''  Yes,  Mildred  !  Ah,  here  comes  Haidee  and  the  colonel !  Take 
Haidee  of!^  there's  a  good  fellow !  I  must  have  a  private  talk  with 
the  colonel." 


CHAPTER   XLYIII. 
To  Brentam  Mills. 

"  1Vr^^^^^^   CAREY,  Brentam  Mills,  to  Hamish  Glendare, 
-^^     George  Hotel,  Bath.     Uncle  is  very  ill.     He  has  asked 
for  you  and  the  Raynefords  repeatedly.     Please  come  immediately. 
The  carriage  will  be  at  station  two  twenty." 

This  document,  presented  to  Mr.  Glendare  by  a  telegraph  messen- 
ger, interrupted  the  party  at  the  moment  of  the  colonel's  arrival 
with  Haidee. 

"The  Raynefords?"  said  Hyland,  when  he  read  the  despatch. 
"  That  means  Miles  and  me,  certainly.  Eleven  o'clock.  I  will  find 
Miles.  Get  ready,  Hamish."  And  he  started  at  a  brisk  pace  for 
the  ruin. 

"  Better  take  Annot,  too,"  he  thought,  as  he  approached  the  old 
castle.  "  It  is  highly  probable  that  he  will  ask  for  her.  Besides, 
Miles  will  not  willingly  leave  her.  Wonder  if  we  might  take  Dr. 
Leigh  ?    Ho,  Miles !     Where  are  you  ?" 

"  Here !"  answered  Lord  Rayneford,  emerging  from  the  great  hall, 
his  wife  on  his  arm.     "  What  is  up,  Hyland  ?" 

"  A  desjxitch  from  Miss  Carey,  saying  Mr.  Brentam  is  seriously 
ill,  and  calls  for  Glendare  and  us."  And  he  handed  the  messao-e  to 
Miles. 

"  The  Raynefords  ?"  said  Annot.     "  That  includes  me." 


288  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"Undoubtedly,"  answered  Miles.  "Two  twenty.  That  is  at 
Taunton.  She  will  send  the  carriage.  We  must  leave  Bath  at 
noon." 

"And  sister  Annot  will  require  three  hours- 


"  I  do  not  require  three  minutes,  sir !"  answered  Lady  Rayneford, 
indignantly. 

"  Take  my  arm  also,  sister  dear,"  said  Hyland,  "  and  be  pacified. 
My  first  thought  when  I  read  this  message  was,  'Annot  shall  go 
also.'  So  you  will  see  dear  old  Hawkley  '  upside  down'  after  all. 
Poor  old  Miles !" 

"What  ails  him?"  said  Annot. 

"  Married  !"  answered  Hyland.  "  That  answer  covers  everything. 
No  will  of  his  own.  No  liberty.  No  remnants  of  affection  for  his 
own  kindred.  A  bond-slave !  He  has  to  go  plodding  through  the 
damp  grass  just  to  wait  on  his  wife.     Look  at  his  boots !" 

"  And  tied  to  an  obstinate,  whimsical  brother  I"  added  Annot. 
"He  cannot  cast  him  out  of  his  affections  if  he  would.  But  he 
cannot  make  the  least  impression  upon  this  brother  by  precept  or — 
example.     Headstrong  and  wilful !" 

"  You  called  me  a  ninny  !"  said  Hyland,  reproachfully. 

"  I  will  apologise  when  you  do  better.  And  now  excuse  me  three 
minutes.     My  lord,  do  we  return  to  Castledane?" 

"  Without  doubt !"  answered  Haidee,  suddenly  appearing  at  the 
•window.  "  How  could  you  ask  such  a  question,  Annot  ?  You  would 
not  be  cruel  enough  to  leave  us  in  this  abrupt  manner?  Lord 
Rayneford,  why  don't  you  answer  ?" 

"  Certainly  !"  said  Miles,  confusedly.  "  That  is,  Annot,  Mr.  Dale 
will  be  here " 

"And  I  am  coming  back,  if  the  roads  are  not  impassable,"  said 
Hyland. 

Zeba  stalked  majestically  up  as  the  carriage  approached. 

"  Will  sahib  take  Zeba  ?"  he  said,  addressing  Hyland. 

"No,"  replied  Hyland,  in  defective  Hindoostanee ;  "abide  and 
guard  those  I  love."  And  he  remembered  that  Haidee  understood 
the  "  lingo"  as  he  saw  her  face  disappear  from  the  window.  He 
did  not  see  the  warm  hue  that  overspread  her  countenance,  as  the 
wall  of  the  mansion  was  about  two  feet  thick,  and  she  had  with- 
drawn below  the  window-sill. 

" '  Ninny'  was  the  correct  word,  by  this  light !"  muttered  Hyland, 
as  he  entered  the  carriage.  "  What  will  she  think  of  that  speech  ? 
I  should  apologise,  but  what  could  I  say  ?     I  might  tell  her  I  did 


TO  BRENTAM  MILLS.  289 

not  mean  her,  but  that  would  he  uncomplimentary.  Moreover,  I 
fear  it  would  he  a  lie  as  well.  I  cannot  get  out  of  this  uncomfort- 
able mess  any  way,  except  by  golnir  to  India.  I  vow,  I  wish  my 
leave  had  expireil  !     Ami  I  lear  that  is  mendacious  also." 

"  What  are  you  saying,  brother?"  asked  Annot,  politely. 

"I?  Oh,  nothing.  Do  you  see  how  beautiful  that  hedge  is?  I 
am  going  to  photograph  this  view  when  we  return." 

When  they  reached  the  station  a  shilling  to  the  guard  secured  them 
a  compartment  in  which  there  were  no  other  passengers,  and  they 
were  duly  locked  in.  As  he  closed  the  door  the  guard  whispered 
Ilyland : 

"  If  the  lady  don't  object,  you  gents  can  smoke,  if  you  like.  No- 
body will  disturb  you.     Taunton,  sir?     Yes,  sir.     Two  twenty." 

"  Smoke !"  said  Hyland.  "  Of  course  not !  It  would  be  brutal ! 
Sit  here  by  the  window,  sister.  Get  over  on  the  other  side,  you  two. 
I  have  something  to  say  to  Lady  Rayneford  which  you  should  not 
hear." 

As  the  train  glided  along  through  the  beautiful  scenery  of  Somerset, 
Annot  was  busy  with  questions.  The  name  of  each  striking  object 
was  recorded  in  her  note-book,  the  local  histories,  all  familiar  to 
Hyland,  were  stored  away  in  her  memory,  and  the  first  hour  of  the 
journey  slipped  raj>idly  away. 

"  By-t!ie-bye,"  said  Annot,  "you  said  you  had  some  remarks  to 
make.     I  am  all  attention." 

"  But  I  meant  ray  remarks  to  be  replies  to  yours,"  answered 
Hyland,  sheepishly.  "You  terminated  our  interview  this  morning 
rather  abruptly.  Can  you  not  resume  your  discourse  where  you 
left  off?" 

"What  did  I  say  last?" 

"  Only  that  I  was  an  overgrown  ninny !"  said  Hyland,  with  an 
injured  air. 

"Ah!  Well,  I  will  amend  that,"  replied  Annot.  "I  should 
have  said  *  milk-sop.'     Have  you  talked  with  Mr.  Glendare?" 

"  Yes.  And  he  says  he  is  going  to  marry.  He  has  been  medi- 
tating the  fatal  step  six  years.     And  now  he  is  ready.     All  smooth 

and  methodical.     He  has  talked  with  the  colonel,  and  with  me 

By  this  light !  Maybe  it  was  confidential.  I  really  never  thought 
of  that !" 

"Never  mind,  brother,"  said  Annot,  "you  are  a  good  boy  now. 
Do  you  think  Mr.  Glendare  has  proposed  and  been  accei)ted  ?" 

"  What  a  stunner  you  are  !"  answered  Hyland.     "  No.     I  don't 

19 


290  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

think  he  has  been  accepted.  In  fact,  I  think  the  lady  has  been 
troubled  with  a — what  do  you  call  it?  Oh,  a  prior  attachment. 
And  Glendare  thinks  I  am  the  favoured  Adonis.  I  happen  to  know 
it  is  another  fellow  !  In  either  case  I  am  like  the  poor  little  Johnny 
in  the  nursery  song,  id  est,  *  out  in  the  cold.'  Don't  you  see  how 
clear  the  case  is  ?" 

"Yes,  I  see,"  answered  Annot,  quietly.  "Pray  toll  me,  how 
much  do  you  love  Haidee  Mordaunt  ?" 

"  How  much  ?"  said  Hyland,  his  face  aflame.  "  I  dare  not  say 
I  love  her  at  all !  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  whine  after  a 
woman  who  gave  that  Clifton  picture  to  the  other  fellow " 

"  Gave  WHAT !" 

"The  picture.  The  Clifton  picture!  I  made  it;  did  I  not  tell 
you?  I  gave  her  a  copy  of  that  you  saw  this  morning.  There 
were  only  two." 

"  The  Clifton  picture !"  said  Annot.  "  Brother,  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  something  in  strict  confidence.  Before  Miles — spoke 
to  me — over  there  in  America — he  found  a  picture  in  the  hands 
of  another  gentleman.  The  only  name  it  ever  had  was  the 
Clifton  picture.  My  lord,  please  lend  me  the  Clifton  picture  a 
moment." 

Miles  felt  in  the  inner  pocket  of  his  waistcoat  and  drew  forth  a 
locket,  secured  by  a  bit  of  ribbon  to  his  button-hole.  His  M'ife  took 
it,  touched  a  spring,  and  gave  the  locket  to  Hyland,  who  examined 
the  portrait  Avith  increasing  astonishment. 

"  Miles  thought  it  was  mine.  So  did — the  other  gentleman.  But 
the  latter  took  it  secretly,  and  sent  it  back  to  me — from  the  grave ! 
Sent  it  by  your  brother's  hand  !  And  he — drcAV  back  from  me — 
just  as  you  do  now  from  Haidee,  because  he  thought  I  had  given 
this  locket  to  the  other.     It  is  my  mother,  you  know." 

"  Do  you  know,  Annot,"  said  Hyland,  at  last,  "  that  you  are  tell- 
ing impossible  things?  If  I  were  to  describe  such  a  coincidence  as 
this,  and  print  the  description,  the  whole  civilised  world  would  sneer 
at  the  madness  of  such  an  imagination  !  And  to  add  to  the  vast 
mountain  of  improbability — see  !  here  is  the  duplicate  of  your  pic- 
ture. I  obtained  this  from  the  lunatic  who  uttered  the  prediction 
of  Avhich  I  told  you.  Oh,  this  is  too  absurd  for  discussion  !  Tell 
me  the  rest  of  the  story." 

*'  There  is  not  much  more,"  answered  Annot,  blushing.  "  My 
lord  was  very  gentle  and  sympathising,  and  somehow — he  discovered 
that  I  was  not  disconsolate — even  as  you  might  discover — you  poor, 


TO   BRENT  AM  MILLS.  291 

blind  mole! — that  Hiiidcc  is  not  disconsolate,  and  then That 


IS  al 


"  Ninny,  milksop,  and  mole  !"  ejaculated  Ilyland.  "  Sni)i)ose  you 
were  a  man,  and  liad  a  preference — oV  a  growing  attiichment — or 
some  humbug  of  that  sort,  do  ycm  thiidc  you  would  be  (pilte  content 
to  have  your  beloved  object  giving  her  picture  to  another  fellow?" 

''  I  think  I  should  ascertain  the  facts  before  I  did  anything," 
answereil  Annot. 

'*  How  can  I  ascertain  the  facts,  sister?"  said  he,  plaintively. 

"  Ask  Haidee !" 

"  Ileh  !  By  this  light !  you  cut  the  Gordian  knot  with  a  ven- 
geance!  Don't  you  see  how  promptly  Haidee  would  recognise  my 
— ray  liking  for  herself?  Do  you  recommend  me  to  go  whining 
after  another  fellow's  woman?     Not  I !  • 

"I  have  no  patience  with  you!"  said  Annot,  viciously.  "Oh,  if 
a  man  were  to  come  courting  me  in  that  half-hearted  fashion,  I  think 
I'd " 

"What?" 

"I'd  set  the  dogs  at  him!" 

"  I  shall  ask  Miles  to  tell  me,  circumstantially,  how  he  courted," 
said  Hyland.  "  It  is  a  grand  thing  to  have  the  benefit  of  another 
fellow's  experience.  It  cost  poor  Miles  enough,  too.  Ah  !  when  we 
were  boys  it  was  said  Miles  was  sedate,  demure,  proper,  placable, 
cautious,  and  good;  while  Hyland  was  impulsive,  headlong,  quar- 
relsome, passionate,  and  utterly  reckless.  Now  behold  the  contrast ! 
That  quiet-looking  fellow  over  there  in  the  corner  just  shut  his  eyes 
and  plunged  headforemost  into  a  sea  of  trouble.  And  I  am  ])ro- 
ceeding  with  careful  steps,  not  only  to  save  myself  from  disappoint- 
ment and  humiliation,  but  also  to  save  a  darling  little  woman  from 
pain,  or  annoyance  at  least.  I'll  ask  him  how  he  courted  you,  by 
this  light !" 

"If  you  dare!"  said  Annot,  menacingly — "if  you  dare  speak  on 
the  subject,  I'll  write  Haidee  this  evening!" 

"  Mum  is  the  word,  sister  !"  said  Hyland,  horror-stricken.  "  Mum 
on  both  sides.  I  won't  ask  a  question  ;  and  if  Miles  should  volun- 
teer to  tell  me,  I'll  punch  his  head.  It  Avould  be  an  agreeable  varia- 
tion to  him,  though,  to  exchange  that  terrible  tongue  for  a  regular 
pounding  !" 

"What  tongue,  sir?" 

"Glendare's!"  answered  Hyland,  promptly  and  mendaciously. 
"Don't  you  see  how  he  is  talking  Miles  to  death.    What  a  splendid 


292  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

fellow  Miles  is,  Aunot !  It  is  a  bad  business  to  destroy  the  useful- 
ness of  a  man  like  Miles!  Wiiy,  he  used  to  go  to  London  to  read 
papers  on  no  end  of  topics,  and  was  an  active  member  of  tiiree  or 
four  stunning  societies.     But  now  !  Othello's  occupation's  gone  !" 

"What  misfortune  has  overtaken  him?"  asked  Annot,  looking 
proudly  at  her  handsome  lord ;  "  he  looks  quite  well.  If"  he  were 
troubled  by  some  unsolved  problem  affecting  his  welfare  or  happi- 
ness, it  is  not  probable  that  he  would  go  moonstruck  and  moaning 
to  India !" 

'*  Indeed  ?"  said  Hyland,  with  a  grim  smile.  "  But  notice  how 
snubbed  and  subdued  he  looks.  If  you  had  known  him  in  happier 
days " 

"  Be  quiet,  sir  !  You  a^;e  trying  to  provoke  me,  but  you  fail. 
Ah,  brother!  I  am  not  going  to  meddle  with  your  affairs  at  all. 
Because  I  know  your  excellent  sense  will  deliver  you  from  all  per- 
plexity. Just  now  you  are  jealous  and  sensitive,  but  I  am  not  dis- 
quieted. A  little  time,  a  favourable  opportunity,  a  M'ord  or  two  of 
explanation What  are  you  going  back  to  Castledane  for  ?" 

"  I — I  left  my  things  there !"  said  Hyland,  startled  by  the  abrupt 
question.     "Besides — who  said  I  Avas  going  back?" 

"  You  did !  You  said  you  would  go  afoot  if  necessaiy.  You 
can  send  for  'your  things.'  I  can  send  for  mine.  You  only  had  a 
portmanteau.     Why  did  you  leave  it?" 

"  I  have  plenty  of  things  at  Hawkley,"  he  answered.  "  What  is  the 
use  of  encumbering  one's  self  Avith  luggage  ?  But  I  have  my  wagon 
there,  and  Tommy,  and  Zeba." 

"  Zeba  can  drive  Tommy  to  Hawkley  and  Tommy  can  draw  the 
wagon.    Your  excuse  is  absurd !    You  are  going  back  to  see  Haidee  !" 

"Hush!"  said  Hyland,  anxiously,  "those  fellows  will  hear  you. 
Have  your  own  way !  I'll  contradict  you  no  more.  I'll  go  back  to 
Castledane,  and  if  you  will  write  down  what  you  wish  me  to  say — 
I'll  say  it,  by  this  light !  You  might  be  satisfied,  though,  with  ruling 
Miles  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  let  me  off!  See  here,  sister.  On 
honour,  now !  Do  you  think  if  all  should  turn  out  right,  and  I 
should  sret  that  little  angel — do  vou  think  she  would  be  as  relentless 
a  tyrant  as — as  some  other  married  women  ?" 

"  How  can  I  tell?  I  have  never  known  any  tyrannical  wives ! 
Hyland  !     Look  at  that  lovely  view " 

"  Bother  the  view!"  was  the  rude  rejoinder.  "Now  talk  seriously 
a  moment.     I  am  willing  to  admit  the  spoons " 

"  Spoons  ?" 


THE    WILL   AND   LETTERS.  293 

"I  mean  the  teiulcr  emotions,  sister.  But  you  seem  to  think  I 
mio:ht  |)roperly  enter  the  lists  against  Glendare.  Now  suppose  I 
could  win  in  such  a  cimtest?  Can  you  counsel  me  to  destroy  the 
hai)piness  of  my  friend  ?  Could  I  b(;  happy  with  her,  if  I  tiiought 
llamish  was  ilying  for  her?" 

"Suppose  you  were  dying  for  her  yourself?" 

"  Well — suppose  I  am  ?  All  the  philosophy  I  know  culminates 
in  one  ])ostulate,  to  wit :  he  who  secures  the  happiness  of  another 
by  self-denial  gains  a  great  good  at  a  small  price.  You  may  prove 
the  jiostulate  by  reversing  the  proposition.  Consider  how  much  you 
could  enjoy  a  blessing  gained  at  the  cost  of  another's  misery !  You 
will  not  find  this  set  down  in  the  books.     But  I  know  it  is  true." 

He  looked  so  handsome  as  he  spoke,  that  Annot  gazed  with  ad- 
miration at  his  animated  countenance.  ' 

''  Here  is  Taunton  !"  said  Hyland,  "  and  there  is  John.  Hi ! 
John  !     Plow  is  your  master?" 

"  Dead,  Mr.  Hyland,"  answered  the  footman.     "  Apoplexy,  sir." 


CHAPTER    XLIX. 

The  Will  and  Letters. 

^T^HE  travellers  found  Mr,  Plimpton  at  Brentara  Villa.  He  had 
-*-  been  with  Mr.  Brentam  since  his  return  from  Milford,  and 
had  drawn  his  will.  The  attack  was  quite  sudden,  and  Mr.  Bren- 
tam died  a  few  minutes  after  the  arrival  of  the  physician.  He  had 
been  greatly  depressed,  though  he  made  no  complaints,  and  his  ap- 
petite was  very  good  at  breakfast.  He  walked  from  the  table  into 
the  library,  and  there  Mr.  Plimpton  found  him  speechless.  He 
rallied  only  once,  and  asked  for  "the  Raynefords  and  Hamish." 
These  were  the  only  words  he  had  spoken. 

Lady  Rayneford  suggested  the  propriety  of  going  immediately  to 
Hawkley,  leaving  the  gentlemen  at  Brentam  Villa,  if  Miss  Carey 
desired  their  presence.  This  proposal  was  communicated  to  Mil- 
dred, who  sent  a  return  message,  begging  the  guests  to  remain,  and 
requesting  Lady  Rayneford's  presence  in  her  chamber  for  a  short 
time.  Annot  went  in  prompt  response  to  this  invitation.  Mildred 
was  dressed,  and  met  her  visitor  at  the  door,  placed  her  in  a  luxu- 


294  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

rious  chair  near  the  window,  removed  her  hat  and  shawl,  and  took 
a  seat  near  her. 

"It  was  kind  to  come,"  she  said,  "and  I  hope  you  Avill  remain  a 
few  days.  I  have  no  one  to  talk  to  me,  and  suffer  more  from  lone- 
liness than  anything  else.  Uncle  died  very  suddenly,  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  be  in  pain.  Apart  from  the  shock,  which  has  unnerved  me, 
I  think  I  could  be  thankful  that  he  departed  so  quietly.  The 
doctor  says  he  certainly  did  not  suffer  from  the  first  attack." 

"  If  my  presence  will  comfort  you,  Miss  Carey " 

"  Please  call  me  Mildred — I  seem  to  know  you,  and  I  am  sure  I 
desire  your  friendship.  In  such  a  time  as  this  Me  may  dispense 
with  forms.     I  should  like  to  call  you  Annot,  if  I  might." 

Annot  leaned  forward,  put  her  plump  arm  around  her  neck  and 
kissed  her.  Mildred  hid  her  face  on  her  new  friend's  neck  a  few 
minutes,  and  when  it  reappeared  it  was  quite  serene.  The  two 
women  looked  steadily  at  each  other  as  they  talked.  Annot  knew 
this  was  the  woman  who  had  first  attracted  Miles,  and  Mildred 
knew  the  extent  of  Annot's  knowledge.  Miles,  the  outspoken,  honest 
gentleman,  would  never  have  proposed  to  another  woman  without 
telling  of  his  previous  admiration  for  her.  And  with  the  clair- 
voyant perception  of  her  sex,  she  saw  the  thoughts  in  Annot's 
mind. 

"Lord  Rayneford  has  been  so  dear  a  friend,'"'  said  Mildred,  "that 
I  am  more  than  ready  to  love  you  for  his  sake.  We  were  children 
together,  and  he  has  always  seemed  like  a  brother  to  me.  Uncle 
was  very  much  attached  to  him  also ;  and  since  he  learned  your 
name,  he  has  charged  me  more  than  once  to  cultivate  vour  friend- 
ship  when  you  got  settled  at  Hawkley.  I  am  sure  he  had  a  pre- 
sentiment of  approaching  death.     My  cousin  Frank AVhat 

is  it,  Mary  ?" 

"Letter,  mum,"  said  the  maid.  "  Mr.  Plimpton  said  you  had 
better  open  it." 

"It  is  from  Bath,"  said  Mildred,  "and  looks  like  Mr.  Payne- 
ford's  hand.  I  will  see  if  it  is  important,  Mary."  She  broke  the 
seal,  read  the  note  with  close  attention,  and  after  meditating,  dis- 
missed her  maid. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Plimpton  it  contains  only  private  matters,  and  I  will 
keep  it."  When  the  girl  closed  the  door,  Mildred  gave  the  letter 
to  her  companion.  It  was  Hyland's  note  to  Mr.  Brentam,  asserting 
his  confident  belief  in  Daltman's  safety.  Annot  read  and  returned 
it  to  Mildred. 


THE   WILL  AND  LETTERS.  295 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  asktHl  Miss  Carey.  "It  is  very 
strange  !     I  cannot  see  the  possibility  of  Frank's  escape." 

"  If  Ilvlaiul  says  so,  it  is  certainly  true  !"  replied  Annot. 

Mildred  looked  at  her  cn(|uiringly. 

"I  mean,"  said  Annot,  "  that  Ilyland  would  not  say  so  much — 
would  not  speak  so  confidently,  with  all  his  caution,  unless  he  had 
ncarlv  positive  proof.     Your  cousin  is  alive." 

"  You  have  not  known  Mr.  Rayneford  long,"  observed  Mildred, 
"yet  you  have  exactly  described  him.  I  have  known  hiiu  many 
years,  and  never  knew  hira  to  be  guilty  of  even  tliose  small  deceits 
that  are  generally  permitted  in  polite  society.  The  terrible  calamity 
of  Frank's  death  overwhelmed  me  far  more  than  the  later  bereave- 
ment. I  am  quite  able  to  go  down,  I  think.  I  am  eager  to  ask 
Mr.  Rayneford " 

"Come,  my  dear,"  said  Annot,  rising;  "they  are  all  in  the 
library." 

"  Not  in  the  library !"  said  Mildred.  "  Do  you  go  down,  my 
lady " 

"  I  thoutrht  we  had  agreed  to  be  Mildred  and  Annot " 


"  Annot,  dear  friend,  please  go  down  and  take  them  to  the  draw- 
ing-room.    I  will  follow  in  a  moment." 

She  was  met  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase  by  Glendare  and  Ilyland. 
They  walked  in  the  hall,  talking  chiefly  about  Daltman  until  Lord 
Rayneford  joined  them.  They  met  again  at  dinner,  later  in  the  day, 
and  the  gloom  that  overhung  the  household  was  perceptibly  lessened. 
;Mr.  Plimpton  announced  that  sjiecial  reasons  made  it  proper  for 
them  all  to  remain  at  Brentam  Villa  until  after  the  funeral.  He 
telegraphed  for  Mr.  Dale  the  same  evening,  and  the  next  day  brought 
that  gentleman  to  Taunton,  where  the  carriage  was  sent  to  meet  him. 

Lady  Rayneford  thus  became  known  to  all  the  fiimilies  in  the 
vicinity  of  Hawkley,  who  assembled  at  Brentam  Villa  on  the  day 
of  the  funeral.  The  formality  of  introduction  into  this  society  was 
a  very  slight  ordeal  under  the  circumstances,  and  the  shy  young 
bride  was  astonished  to  discover  how  closely  the  gentry  of  Somerset 
resembled  the  cultivated  people  she  had  known  in  her  birthplace. 
After  the  funeral  ceremonies  were  over,  the  household,  with  a  few 
near  neighbours,  were  summoned  to  the  library  to  hear  the  will  of 
the  deceased  gentleman. 

There  was  a  list  of  legacies  to  the  servants  of  the  household,  to 
some  of  the  older  operatives  at  the  mills,  and  to  one  or  two  personal 
friends.     Then  came  the  first  important  item,  bequeathing  to  Miles, 


296  TEE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

Baron  Eayneforcl  of  Hawkley,  the  sura  of  thirty  thousand  pounds, 
represented  by  certain  mortgages  upon  the  estate  of  Hawkley,  all 
of  which  had  become  the  property  of  the  deceased  by  purchase  from 
the  original  holders.  The  last  transfer  had  been  made  at  Milford 
only  a  week  before. 

Item :  To  Miles,  Baron  Rayneford  of  Hawkley,  certain  moneys 
now  in  his  hands,  being  the  undivided  proceeds  of  a  joint  invest- 
ment, amounting  to  forty  thousand  pounds  or  more,  and  which  his 
executors  were  directed  to  assess  upon  the  accounting  of  the  said 
Baron  Rayneford  of  Hawkley. 

Item :  To  Annot  Mordaunt  Dale  Rayneford,  Baroness  Rayneford 
of  Hawkley,  all  that  parcel  of  land  known  as  Dale's  Manor,  adjoin- 
ing the  lands  of  Brentam  Mills  on  the  east,  and  consisting  of  sixteen 
hundred  acres,  more  or  less.  The  possible  imperfections  in  the  title 
to  this  estate  would  all  be  removed  by  a  deed  from  Windham  Dale, 
Esquire,  gentleman. 

Item :  To  Windham  Dale,  Esquire,  gentleman,  ten  thousand 
pounds  in  the  three  per  cent,  consols. 

Item  :  To  the  Honourable  Hyland  Rayneford  of  Hawkley,  two 
hundred  shares  of  the  capital  stock  of  Brentam  Mills,  with  the 
request  that  he  would  give  his  personal  supervision  to  the  finances 
of  that  property  so  long  as  he  held  said  stock. 

Item  :  To  Mistress  Mildred  Carey,  spinster,  presently  residing  at 
Brentam  Villa,  all  the  residue  of  his  estate,  real,  personal,  and 
mixed. 

Hamish  Glendare  and  Hyland  Rayneford  were  appointed  execu- 
tors. 

The  effect  produced  by  the  reading  of  this  last  testament  was 
very  curious.  Mildred  was  the  only  one  of  the  listeners  who  heard 
Mr.  Plimpton's  monotonous  sentences  with  composure.  Lord  Rayne- 
ford was  burning  with  indignation  at  the  thought  of  having  this 
load  of  money  thrust  upon  him  without  his  knowledge  or  consent. 
His  Avife,  who  had  a  vague  idea  that  Dale's  Manor  was  the  rightful 
inheritance  of  her  father,  was  indignant  at  this  transfer  to  her  of  the 
very  estate  he  was  preparing  to  take  by  litigation.  Mr.  Dale  was 
disquieted  because  the  legacy  of  ten  thousand  pounds  was  appended 
to  the  bequest  to  Annot,  as  an  apparent  equivalent  for  his  signature 
to  the  imperfect  title-deeds.  Hyland  sat  quiet,  like  a  true  philoso- 
pher, and  thus  cogitated : 

"  That  lot  of  tin  was  intended  for  Frank.  Mr.  Brentam  left  it 
to  me  because  he  thought  Frank  was  drowned.     Now,  I  shall  just 


Till-:    WILL  AND   LETTERS.  297 

pass  it  over  to  Master  Frank  as  soon  as  he  returns  to  Englaml,  and 
in  the  meantime  I'll  let  Hamisli  do  the  executor  work." 

These  meditations  were  iiiterrni)te<l  by  Mr.  Plimpton's  announce- 
ment that  a  private  letter  had  been  written  by  tlie  deceased  to  each 
of  the  legatees,  and  confided  to  him  for  distribution.  Producing 
the  letters,  he  folde<l  the  will  and  bowed,  dismissing  his  audience. 

"You  all  know  my  address  in  London,"  he  said,  "and  can  apply 
to  rae  for  copies  of  this  will,  or  for  any  information  relating  to  the 
estate.  Miss  Carey,  I  must  be  in  London  to-morrow.  AVill  you 
l)lease  send  me  to  Taunton  at  the  proper  time?" 

The  shutters  were  all  opened,  and  the  signs  of  mourning  all  dis- 
appeared, excepting  the  black  habiliments  of  the  mistress  of  the 
house.  Lord  Rayneford  and  Annot  withdrew  to  the  bay-window 
and  read  their  letters. 

"My  dear  Miles,"  ran  the  first  epistle,  "you  would  not  be  sur- 
prised at  my  will  if  you  had  known  my  thoughts  since  your  boy- 
hood. I  have  watched  your  career  with  great  interest,  and,  with 
Mr.  Plimpton's  assistance,  I  have  gradually  got  possession  of  all  the 
claims  upon  Hawkley,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  leaving  your  inherit- 
ance clear  at  my  death.  If  I  had  announced  this  to  you  when 
you  were  younger  it  is  possible  that  you  would  not  have  acquired 
your  conservative  habits,  even  if  you  had  been  willing  to  accept  the 
legacy.  B\it  you  will  have  no  such  scruples  in  taking  the  gift  from 
me  when  I  am  in  the  church-yard.  As  for  the  value  of  the  *  Nellie' 
and  her  splendid  success,  that  is  all  due  to  your  discreet  management, 
except  the  original  outlay,  which  was  very  moderate.  I  may  add — 
but  you  will  find  that  in  your  wife's  letter.  I  shall  not  see  you 
again,  even  to  welcome  you  to  English  shores,  as  I  cannot  mistake 
the  frecpient  warnings  that  betoken  my  approaching  death.  Take 
the  gifts,  my  friend,  without  reluctance,  and  my  blessing  with  them." 

Annot's  letter  was  shorter : 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  you  are  dear  to  me  for  your  mother's  sake, 
and  also  for  the  sake  of  your  gallant  husband.  I  leave  your  father's 
estate  to  you  instead  of  to  him,  as  I  at  first  purposed,  because  I 
bought  it  for  your  mother.  You  will  find  an  old  will,  cancelled  by 
this  last  one,  in  which  Dale's  Manor  is  given  to  Annot  Mordaunt 
Dale.  The  title  is  not  so  clear  as  it  might  be,  but  no  one  except 
your  father  can  contest  it.  I  have  given  Rayneford  the  proceeds 
of  the  sale  of  his  vessel,  because  his  adventurous  expedition  in  the 
'  Nellie'  ended  in  his  marriage  with  you.  There  is  no  man  in  Eng- 
land to  whom  I  would  so  gladly  give  you.     There  is  no  woman  in 


298  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

the  world  whom  I  would  so  gladly  welcome  as  his  wife  as  Annot 
Mordaunt  Dale." 

Mr.  Dale's  note  had  neither  address  nor  signature.  It  was  as 
follows : 

"  The  thousand  pounds  sent  to  me  by  Mrs.  Dale  on  the  day  of  her 
marriage  was  in  excess  of  any  debts  due  me  from  her  husband.  I 
did  not  return  it  because  I  could  not  properly  answer  the  message 
that  came  to  me  with  the  money.  But  I  invested  the  sum,  and 
added  its  accretions  year  by  year,  and  the  ten  thousand  pounds  left 
by  my  will  to  Windham  Dale  is  the  same  money  and  its  gains." 

Hyland's  letter  was  the  longest : 

"  I  know  very  well,  Hyland,  what  your  thought  will  be  when 
my  w-ill  is  read  in  your  presence.  You  will  immediately  conclude 
that  you  owe  this  gift  to  Frank's  death.  But  you  are  mistaken  ;  I 
should  have  made  the  same  disposition  of  this  stock  if  Frank  had 
been  alive.  And  now  I  will  give  you  ray  reasons,  if  my  strength 
holds  out  while  I  write. 

"  There  are  only  three  hundred  and  ninety-five  shares  of  the  stock, 
and  I  retained  these  two  hundred,  which  is  rather  more  than  half, 
in  order  to  keep  control  of  the  property.  Two  hundred  shares  elects 
the  managing  director,  and  my  earnest  desire  is  to  have  you  in  that 
position.  There  is  no  salary  and  very  little  responsibility,  but  there 
is  plenty  of  occupation.  Your  duty  will  be  to  supervise  the  finan- 
cial operations  of  the  corporation.  You  cannot  transfer  this  duty 
to  another.  The  managing  director  is  instructed  and  required  to 
audit  all  accounts,  to  authorise  all  outlays  of  money,  and  no  in- 
debtedness that  binds  the  property  can  be  incurred  without  his 
signature.  Your  pecuniary  rewards  must  come  from  the  dividends 
ujion  the  stock. 

"  I  have  spent  a  long  life  in  bringing  Brentam  Mills  to  their 
present  condition.  And  this  property  has  taken  the  place  of  kindred 
in  my  affections.  It  would  be  a  sore  thought  to  me  if  I  could 
imagine  these  vast  interests  going  to  decay  or  loss  through  misman- 
agement, neglect,  or  dishonesty. 

"With  the  exception  of  twenty  shares,  belonging  to  Mildred,  all 
the  rest  of  this  stock  is  held  by  people  in  moderate  circumstances. 
A  large  part  of  it  is  held  by  w^idows  and  minor  children  ;  sometimes 
five  shares,  and  sometimes  only  one  or  two,  form  the  sole  source  of 
revenue  to  helpless  families.  The  charter  provides  that  no  share  can 
be  sold  or  transferred  except  w'ith  the  consent  of  the  managing 
director,  who  always  has  the  right  of  purchase  first  at  the  offered 


THE   OVERCOAT.  299 

price.  I  need  liardly  tell  you  that  I  have  always  bought  auy  stock 
that  was  offered  for  sale,  sometimes  with,  and  sometimes  without 
competition.  But  I  have  never  held  such  purchases  a  day.  Because 
I  have  a  list  of  applications  for  any  of  the  stock  that  may  be  for 
sale,  and  I  have  selected  the  new  owners  from  this  list  according  to 
my  best  judgment. 

"  Ilyland,  I  leave  this  trust  to  you.  There  are  sixty-one  owners 
of  the  stock — nearly  all  of  them  sustained  by  its  dividends  alone. 
These  sixty-one  represent  fully  fifty  families — all  of  them  in 
Somerset.  The  chief  occupation  of  my  later  life  has  been  to  con- 
serve their  interests.  Do  you  think  I  could  have  left  this  burden 
upon  poor  Frank  ?  And  if  I  had,  do  you  think  he  could  have  met 
the  responsibility  ? 

"The  dividends  upon  this  stock  have  been  uniformly  twenty 
pounds  per  share  per  annum,  and  there  is  a  steadily  increasing  sur- 
plus, M-hich  will  be  divided  some  day.  Your  income  will  therefore 
be  four  thousand  pounds,  if  you  keep  up  the  prosperity  of  the  mills. 
I  would  gladly  pay  you  that  salary,  if  I  could  live  and  watch  your 
management.     Farewell,  Ilyland. 

"  Affectionately  yours,  H.  Brentam." 


CHAPTER    L. 
The  Overcoat. 


MILDRED  consented  to  spare  Lady  Rayneford  two  hours  the 
next  morning  to  drive  over  to  Hawkley,  '^just  to  get  one 
look."  Lord  Rayneford  was  obliged  to  escort  her,  of  course,  and  Mr. 
Dale  begged  permission  to  accompany  them,  to  revive  the  memory 
of  scones  he  had  not  looked  upon  for  twenty-five  years.  Glendare 
and  Ilyland,  in  their  official  capacity  as  executors,  -were  to  spend  the 
two  hours  over  the  private  papers  of  Mr.  Brentam,  assisted  by  Miss 
Carey.  They  had  opened  the  iron  safe  in  the  library,  and  were 
seated  aroiuid  the  centre-table,  deep  in  the  investigation  of  title-deeds 
and  certificates,  when  the  carriage  bore  the  others  away. 

"  Ilamish,"  said  Miss  Carey,  "  there  will  perhaps  be  no  more 
fivoural)le  opportunity  than  the  present  to  tell  you  certain  things 
whicli  vou  must  know." 


300  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Allow  me  to  walk  down  the  garden,"  said  Hyland,  rising.  "  I 
am  hungering  for  a  cheroot." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Mildred,  "your  presence  is  needed. 
There  are  gaps  in  ray  storv  which  you  must  fill.  It  is  about 
Frank." 

"  I  really  know  next  to  nothing " 

"Do  not  waste  valuable  time,  Mr.  Rayneford,  please,"  said  she. 
"You  know  far  more  than  you  will  tell.  But  we  three  must  act  in 
concert,  and  there  should  be  entire  confidence  between  us,"  Hyland 
resumed  his  seat. 

"  Hamish,  I  think  Frank  undoubtedly  carried  Miss  Mordaunt 
away  in  his  yacht.    I  saw  the  yacht,  and  saw  her  taken  aboard " 

"  No,  you  didn't !"  said  Hyland.  "  Excuse  me,  but  the  yacht  was 
at  Milford  that  evening." 

"  But  the  man  told  me  it  was  a  yacht " 

"  Yes,"  said  Hyland.  "  And  he  told  me  afterwards  that  he  had 
lied  to  you." 

"  I  think,  Hyland,"  observed  Mr.  Glendare,  with  crisp  gentleness, 
"you  had  better  allow  Mildred  to  tell  her  story  without  interrup- 
tion." 

Hyland  stammered  an  apology  and  subsided. 

"  Frank  told  me  he  was  bent  upon  a  desperate  venture,  and  asked 
for  my  aid.  He  would  not  give  me  any  hint  of  his  purpose,  but 
promised  that  no  harm  should  befall  any  one.  I  consented  to  meet 
him  on  Clifton  Downs,  where  Miss  Mordaunt  would  be  found  at  a 
certain  hour.  I  had  never  seen  her,  and  did  not  know  it  was  she 
that  the  men  seized  until  it  was  all  over.  One  of  them  asked  me  if 
my  name  was  Mordaunt,  but  this  did  not  occur  to  me  until  they 
were  bearing  her  off.  I  think  I  threatened  them,  but  they  paid 
very  little  attention  to  me  and  got  away.  Then  I  saw  Mr.  Kayne- 
ford  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river.  I  thought  it  Mas  Frank.  I 
waved  my  handkerchief  to  him,  but  he  did  not  respond.  Then, 
after  some  hesitation,  I  walked  back  to  the  bridge,  crossed,  and  went 
to  the  point  where  I  saw  Mr.  Rayneford.  But  he  was  gone.  I 
took  the  first  train  to  Bath,  intending  to  find  Colonel  Mordaunt, 
and  Frank  met  me  at  the  station  as  soon  as  the  train  arrived, 
and  his  first  eager  question  showed  me  that  he  had  not  been  to 
Clifton  at  all.  He  took  me  down  to  Mrs.  Gordon's,  where  we 
always  stopped  when  in  Bath,  and  besought  me  to  have  patience 
and  keep  quiet  only  two  days,  when  his  scheme  would  be  a 
grand   success,  and  Haidee  would   be  Mrs.   Daltman.     Then   he 


THE   OVERCOAT.  301 

left  inc.  You  came  inuuediately  afterwards,  and  Mr.  Rayneford 
still  later. 

"  When  vou  left  us,  Mr.  Rayncford  told  me  he  had  witnessed  the 
abduetion,  and  had  seen  me  also.  He  thought  I  had  assisted  in  this 
atrocious  act.  I  could  only  tell  him  that  Frank  had  misled  me, 
ami  that  I  had  his  promise,  solemnly  pledged,  that  no  harm  should 
follow.  I  did  not  mention  llaidee's  name,  but  he  found  it  some- 
how.    Who  told  you,  Mr.  Rayneford  ?" 

Hylanil  pointed  across  the  tid)le. 

"  What !     Hamish  ?     How  could  he  know  ?" 

"  Hyland  had  a  picture,"  said  Mr.  Glcndare,  with  precise  enunci- 
ation, "  and  at  the  moment  tliat  Leigh's  message  reached  me,  telling 
me  Haidee  was  lost,  Hyland  was  siiowing  the  picture  to  me.     He 

had  some    confused   story  about   the   picture Ha !    Hyland  ! 

Are  you  ill  ?" 

The  question  was  induced  by  Mr.  Rayneford's  contortions  of  coun- 
tenance. He  was  endeavouring  to  stop  tlie  even  flow  of  Mr.  Glen- 
dare's  narrative  by  making  faces  at  him  that  would  have  frightened 
a  timid  child  into  convulsions. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  answered  Plyland.  "  We  discovered  together. 
Miss  Carey,  that  Miss  Mordaunt  had  been  abducted.  We  both 
went  to  Bristol  that  night,  and  after  all  our  investigation  we  found  no 
certain  clue.  I  did  not  mention  Frank,  because — for  several  reasons." 
(The  chief  reason  was  because  he  wished  to  strangle  Frank  with  his 
own  hands.)     "  Please  resume  your  story." 

"  I  came  back  here  the  next  day,"  continued  Miss  Carey,  "  and  on 
the  second  day  I  received  a  message  from  Frank,  by  telegraph,  from 
Mil  ford.  He  merely  said  he  had  found  the  lady,  and  she  was  safe 
and  on  her  way  to  her  father.  On  the  next  day  I  received  a  note 
from  him.  He  was  at  Castledane.  His  note  said  his  scheme  was 
foiled  by  the  officious  interference  of  some  sailor,  who  was  assisted 
by  a  Hindoo.  He  was  j)ushed  into  the  sea,  and  his  dress  was  so 
utterly  ruined  that  he  could  not  show  himself  to  Haidee.  Besides, 
the  Hindoo  would  go  directly  to  Colonel  Mordaunt  with  the  story. 
So  he  assumed  the  rule  of  rescuer.  And  now  he  was  courting  in  or- 
thodox fashion.  This  was  his  last  message.  I  could  understand  his 
reluctiuice  to  appear  in  soiled  garments,  as  he  has  been  more  precise 
and  old-maidish  about  his  attire,  all  his  life,  than  any  woman  of  my 
acquaintance.  He  was  a  dandy  when  in  short  clothes.  I  never  saw 
him  otherwise  than  scrupulously  neat. 

"  He  sold  his  commission  and  had  the  money  with  him  when  he 


302  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

sailed  away  the  other  night.  He  told  uncle  this  on  board  the  yacht. 
I  think  he  must  have  had  some  success  with  Miss  Mordaunt,  as  her 
picture  was  in  his  possession.  Uncle  saw  it.  It  was  taken  on  Clifton 
Downs,  near  the  Observatory." 

"  AVhy,  Hyland  !"  said  Glendare,  "there  is  some  absurd  mistake 
here  !     Frank  certainly  could  not  get  your  })icture,  and " 

"  Bother  the  picture !"  said  Hyland,  frowning  like  a  thunder-cloud. 
"  I  never  saw  such  a  fellow  !  You  were  quite  ready  to  rebuke  me  a 
moment  ago  for  interrupting  ^liss  Carey,  and  yet  you  have  stopped 
her  a  dozen  times  with  some  rubbish  about  a  confounded  picture ! 
Never  mind  him,  Miss  Carey,  but  proceed." 

'•'  I  cannot  proceed  if  I  set  you  two  to  quarrelling,"  replied  Mil- 
dred, eyeing  the  two  keenly.  "  Pray,  what  is  the  picture  you  speak 
of  with  such  vehemence?" 

The  two  men  sat  in  gloomy  silence,  glaring  at  each  other  across 
the  table. 

"Will  one  of  you  gentlemen  oblige  me  with  an  answer?"  said 
Mildred,  composedly. 

"  Pardon  me.  Miss  Carey,"  said  Hyland.  "  Mr.  Glendare  meant 
to  say — that  there  was  a  certain  picture  of  mine,  which  he  saw — er 
— which  was  taken  on  Clifton  Downs,  near  the  Observatory." 

"And  what  has  that  to  do  with  the  picture  Frank  had?"  she 
asked. 

"  Nothing.  Only — that  is — Miss  Mordaunt  had  a  copy — a  kind 
of  copy " 

"  Bosh  !"  said  Glendare.  "  Hyland,  my  dear  boy,  let  me  tell  the 
story." 

"Tell,  then  !"  said  Hyland,  "but  try  to  adhere  to  the  truth  !" 

"  Certainly  !"  responded  Glendare ;  "  nothing  but  the  truth.  And 
not  all  of  that,  if  you  object.  It  is  very  simple,  Mildred.  Mr. 
Rayneford  was  photographing  the  Observatory.  Haidee  was  in  the 
wav,  and  her  picture  was  taken.  It  was  quite  accidental.  He  was 
not  trvins:  to  take  the  ladv,  but  onlv  the  structure.  It  is  unfor- 
tunately  true  that  the  picture  of  the  lady  was  perfect,  and  as  she  was 
from  three  to  ten  feet  nearer  the  camera  than  the  structure  was,  it 
was  a  wonderful  accident  that  made  the  focus  just  right.  Perhaps 
Hyland  can  explain  that !     I  am  not  a  photographer." 

"  Pish  !"  said  Hyland,  impatiently  ;  "  what  is  the  use  of  talking 
about  matters  you  don't  understand?  You  see,  ]\Iiss  Carey,  the 
focus  is  changed  by  a  single  turn  of  a  screw,  and  when  I  saw  the 
lady  in  the  foreground " 


THE   OVERCOAT.  303 

"You  just  turned  tlic  screw?"  said  Glendarc.     "I  thought  so  !" 

"  And  this  picture  Frank  had  ?"  asked  Mil(h-ed. 

"  Well.  You  must  enquire  of  Mr.  Rayneford,"  said  Glendare, 
politely.  "  If  he  gave  the  picture  to  Frank,  or  to  Ilaidee,  he  hius 
not  got  it  now,  I  suppose.  If  lie  has  it  now,  I  presume  lie  can  say 
so." 

Hyland  took  the  soiled  picture  from  his  pocket  and  unwrapped 
it.  ^Mildred  took  it  and  walked  to  the  bay-window,  where  the  light 
was  better. 

"  What  a  lovely  girl !"  she  exclaimed.  "  This  is  the  lady  I  saw 
on  the  Downs.     Is  it  Haidee  ?" 

"  Yes,"  siiid  Glendare.     "  Is  that  all,  Hyland  ?" 

"All  what?" 

"All  the  pictures  you  took?" 

"  I  only  took  one  picture." 

"And  this  is  it?"  persisted  Glendare. 

"  Yes.  That  is — that  is  taken  from  the  one  plate.  You  can  take 
a  hundred  copies  if  you  like  from  the  one  negative." 

"  But  you  took  only  this  one?"  said  Mr.  Glendare,  gently. 

"  I  usually  take  three  or  four  copies.  I  did  not  count.  I  don't 
remember  accurately  how  many  I  took.  That  is  the  picture  Frank 
had,  though." 

"  And  the  same  you  showed  me  at  Bath  ?" 

"  Xow,  by  this  light !"  said  Hyland.  "  Excuse  me.  Miss  Carey, 
but  this  fellow  is  like  a  whole  swarm  of  wasps  buzzing  around 
one's  ears !  AVhat  possible  difference  can  it  make  whetiier  that  is 
the  solitary  copy  or  one  of  a  thousand  ?"  And  he  rewrapped  the 
picture  and  replaced  it  in  his  pocket,  while  his  friend  shook  with 
merriment. 

"  There,  old  fellow!"  he  said,  when  he  recovered  his  voice,  "I 
will  ask  no  more  questions.  Frank  stole  the  picture,  Mildred.  I 
am  sure  of  it.  Haidee  had  it.  She  would  never  have  given  it  to 
Frank,  poor  child  !" 

"Why  not?"  said  Hyland,  distrustfully  ;  "why  should  she  not? 
He  was  with  her  day  after  day,  and  no  one  to  interfere  with  him. 
She  did  not  know  of  his  rascality." 

"Ask  yourself,  Plyland !"  replied  Glendare,  his  eyes  sparkling 
.through  his  s|x?ctacles,  as  Mildred  moved  away.  "  How  could  a  girl 
— a  sweet  girl  like  Haidee,  with  pure  and  nol^le  instincts,  and  with 
quick  perception  of  character — how  could  such  a  girl  like  you  and 
Daltman  at  the  same  time?" 


304  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

"  Like  me !" 

"  Yes,  you  owl !  She  believes  in  you  to  an  unlimited  extent. 
Many  times  in  your  absence,  when  Master  Frank  would  insinuate 
something  to  your  discredit,  I  have  seen  her  flame  up,  and  while  iier 
head  was  encased  in  those  dismal  wrappings,  I  have  known  her  to 
fly  at  him  and  exterminate  him  with  a  sentence." 

"  How  about  Mr.  Glendare  ?"  said  Hyland,  with  an  effort. 

"Mr.  Glendare?     What  do  you  mean?     Did  I  not  tell  you 

Here!  I  have  not  showed  you  Mr.  Brentam's  letter  to  me."  And  he 
gave  Hyland  the  note. 

"My  dear  Hamish,"  it  ran,  "I  have  had  a  long  talk  with  Mil- 
dred. She  will  be  your  wife  in  due  time.  She  has  promised  me. 
No  other  man  has  ever  had  her  real  affection.  She  may  have  had  a 
passing  fancy  for  another,  but  I  am  sure  she  would  rather  entrust 
her  happiness  in  your  hands " 

"By  this  light!"  said  Hyland,  starting  from  his  seat,  "I  must 
go !  I  am  in  no  end  of  a  mess  !  Do  you  know  anything  about 
trains,  Hamish  ?  You  jolly  old  vagabond,  let  me  hug  you  !  I  am 
just  dying  to  go " 

"Go  where?"  said  Mildred,  returning.     "Anything  the  matter?" 

"Matter?"  ejaculated  Hyland,  taking  her  hand  and  kiasiug  it. 
"Ah,  Mildred,  I  am  miserable  until — I  left  my  overcoat!" 

"Where?     We  can  get  you  one.     Hamish  ! " 

"Left  at  Castledane !  No  other  will  fit  me.  Can  you  let  me  off, 
just  a  few  hours — and  tell  me  how  to  go?     I  could  walk  !" 

Mildred  touched  the  bell. 

"  Tell  the  coachman  to  saddle  Zephyr  for  Mr.  E-ayneford  imme- 
diately." The  footman  disappeared.  "  Now,  Mr.  Rayneford,  my 
mare  is  suffering  for  a  gallop.  She  has  not  been  out  for  six  days. 
Take  her  to  Taunton,  and  leave  her  at  the  King's  Arms.  It  is  near 
the  station.     Hamish,  lend  Mr.  Rayneford  an  overcoat." 

"  W^ith  pleasure,"  said  Glendare,  rushing  up-stairs. 

"  Dear  friend  !"  said  Hyland,  "  how  can  I  repay  you  ?" 

"  Bring  the  ov^ercoat  back  with  you,"  she  answered,  laughing,  as 
Glendare  came  in  with  the  srarment  on  his  arm. 

"Bother  the  overcoat!"  said  Hyland,  "but  thank  you  all  the 
same.  I  am  roasting  !  Nights  are  cool  though,  you  know  !  Here 
is  Zephyr,  by  tiiis  light !     Tell  old  Miles,  dear  friends " 

"  If  you  should  happen  to  see  Haidee,"  said  Glendare,  while 
Hyland  had  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  "will  you  please  deliver  a 
message  ?" 


TULWAR  AND  PICTURE.  305 

"  With  pleasure  !     Fire  away,  old  man  !     Tcmpus  fur/it  /" 

"Please  tell  her  nothing  but  the  want  of  an  overcoat  intluced  you 
to  ride  sixteen  miles  on  horseback  and  far  in  the  night  by  rail " 

"I'll  be  guided  by  circumstiinces,"  answered  Hyland,  mounting. 
"  Miss  Carey,  I  will  ride  gently,  I  have  at  leaat  four  hours.  King's 
Arms.     I'll  not  forget.     Good-bye  !" 

There  w;is  a  sore  disappointment  in  store  for  Hyland.  He  reached 
Taunton  in  time  and  caught  the  last  train.  But  ten  miles  from 
Taunton  there  was  a  most  vexatious  breakdown,  and  he  spent  several 
hours  watching  the  repairs  that  seemed  to  drag  along  at  snail's  i)ace. 
The  number  of  cheroots  he  turned  into  ashes  was  enormous.  Then 
he  found  a  passenger  whose  wife  was  ill,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
line,  and  who  was  half  frantic  at  the  delay.  So  he  put  his  own 
di.^^appointment  in  the  background,  and  strove  with  earnest  zeal  to 
comfort  the  distressed  man.  And  thus  the  hours  glided  by,  until 
the  train  was  once  more  in  motion.  It  was  after  midnight.  He 
wound  his  watch,  and  propping  himself  up  in  his  corner  he  fell  asleep, 
and  dreamed  of  Juno  with  the  great  eyes,  and  called  her  Haidee. 


CHAPTER   LI. 

Tulwar  and  Picture. 

TTTHEX  Hyland  reached  Bath  the  sun  was  illuminating  the 
'  ^  house-tops.  He  obtained  a  vehicle  and  was  driven  out  to 
the  gates  of  Castledane,  where  he  alighted  and  dismissed  the  driver. 
He  felt  a  little  shy  as  he  walked  up  the  green  lane,  as  it  was  still 
quite  early,  and  the  breakfast  hour  was  ten  o'clock.  If  he  could 
only  see  the  housemaid  or  footman,  he  might  slip  quietly  into 
his  room  and  remove  the  travel-stains  from  his  habiliments,  and 
hunt  for  his — overcoat  after  breakfast.  He  was  eager  to  see  how 
Haidee  would  receive  him.  He  had  not  gotten  a  glimpse  of  her  at 
parting  from  these  lovely  scenes  a  week  ago.  Only  a  week!  It 
seemed  like  a  year  to  him.  There  is  the  mansion,  just  visible 
through  the  trees.  There  is  Haidee's  window,  the  sash  open  and 
the  muslin  curtains  floating  inward,  swayed  by  the  gentle  breeze, 
redolent  of  sweet  odours.  "  Peaceful  be  thy  slumbers,  sweet  maiden." 
He  will  just  walk  under  the  window,  with  stealthy  footstep,  and 
blow  a  kiss  through  the  curtains. 

20 


306  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

But  there  is  a  mau  stalking  back  and  forth  under  the  window. 
As  he  approached,  this  man  faces  him,  flashing  out  his  tulwar 
against  the  level  rays  of  the  sun,  and  saluting — military  fashion. 

"  Salaam,  sahib !"  said  the  Hindoo.  "  Welcome !  Sahib  come. 
Guard  relieved." 

"Guard?"  answered  Hyland.  "What  can  you  mean,  Zeba? 
Anything  the  matter  ?     Everybody  well  ?" 

"  All  well,"  said  Zeba.  "  Sahib  say,  '  keep  guard,'  and  Zeba 
watch  here  every  night.  Sleep  in  day,  when  Beebe  wake.  When 
night  come,  and  Beebe  put  out  light,  take  tulwar  and  watch." 

"  This  is  very  extraordinary  !"  said  Hyland,  meditating. 

"  When  sahib  drive  away,  say  in  Hindoostanee, '  Zeba  guard  all  I 
love.'     Then  Zeba  mount  guard  here." 

"  Thanks,  friend  !  All  right !"  said  Hyland,  blushing.  "  I  re- 
member. Can  I  get  in  without  disturbing  the  household  ?  I  mean 
to  my  room.     See  how  dusty  I  am.     Have  been  travelling  all  night." 

"  This  door,"  answered  Zeba.  "  Sahib  find  staircase  through 
passage."  And  as  the  two  departed  the  window-curtains  were 
drawn  aside  and  Haidee's  glowing  face  saluted  the  orb  of  day. 

The  morning  bell  sounded  about  an  hour  earlier  than  usual,  and 
while  Hyland  still  doubted  and  examined  the  internal  arrangements 
of  his  watch,  the  second  bell  rang.  That  meant  breakfast.  He 
went  down  to  the  drawing-room,  meeting  the  colonel  at  the  door. 

"  Welcome  back,  Hyland !"  said  his  host,  extending  his  hand. 
"  Mary  just  informed  me  of  your  arrival.  We  shall  have  an  earlier 
breakfast  than  usual.  That  restless  little  Haidee  has  some  expedi- 
tion on  foot,  and  had  me  called  at  eight  o'clock.     Ah,  here  she  is  !" 

Haidee,  Avho  had  been  waiting  impatiently  for  Sir  Hyland  to  get 
down-stairs,  walked  in,  kissing  the  colonel  and  holding  out  her  hand 
to  Hyland.  Her  face  had  caught  the  sunlight,  but  her  honest  eyes 
met  his  bravely. 

"  I  knew  you  had  come,"  she  said,  simply,  "  and  I  ordered  break- 
fast earlier.  I  am  going  to  sketch  the  old  castle,  and  I  expect  you 
to  escort  me,  and  take  some  views.  Breakfast  is  served,  papa. 
Come  !"  And  she  took  Hyland's  offered  arm  composedly,  while  he 
gazed  around  to  discover  where  the  flood  of  sunlight  that  filled  the 
room  came  from. 

There  was  a  constant  flow  of  conversation,  as  toast  and  muffins 
and  chops  melted  away  before  Hyland's  assaults.  He  had  lived  on 
cheroots  since  yesterday's  luncheon.  It  was  agreed  between  him 
and  Haidee,  who  sat  by  his  side,  that  Tommy  should  take  them 


TULWAR  AND  PICTURE.  307 

to  Castle  Dane,  and  with  sketeh-boolc  uiuler  lier  arm,  she  took  her 
seat  in  Timothy  Holly's  wagon  at  ten  o'clock. 

"  How  dill  you  get  away  from  Brentam  Villa?"  asked  Ilaidec,  as 
they  started.  "Annot  wrote  me  yesterday  that  Miss  Carey  would  not 
hear  any  suggestion " 

"  I  told  her — I  left  my  overcoat  here,"  answered  Ilyland,  "  and 
she  allowed  me  to  come  for  it.  You  have  the  same  dress  on  that 
you  wore — when  I  took  your  i)icture." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  I  wore  it  on  that  account.  Because  you 
must  take  another.     That  one  is  lost." 

"  Lost !" 

"  Lost !"  she  said,  sadly.  "  I  am  so  sorry !  I  want  another 
exactly  like  that." 

"How  did  you  lose  it?" 

''  I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  with  a  troubled  expression  on  her 
face.  "  I  am  not  sure,  but  I  think  somebody  stole  it.  I  saw  him 
with  my  portfolio " 

"  Him  ?" 

"  Yes.  Don't  ask  me.  He  is  dead  now,  and  I  am  trying  to  for- 
give him." 

Hyland  took  the  picture  from  his  pocket  and  put  it  in  her  hands. 

"  It  came  to  me  from  the  sea,"  he  said.  "  I  was  at  Milford  when 
the  yacht  was  wrecked,  or  the  next  day,  and  his  coat  was  found,  and 
this  in  the  pocket.  It  is  not  entirely  spoiled.  I  have  tried  to 
restore  it  for  you." 

"  And  this  is  the  only  one  you  had  ?"  said  Haidee,  shyly.  "  You 
do  not  care  to  keep  it  ?     I  mean  for  the  Observatory." 

"There  is  one  more — Beebe.  May  I  call  you  Be6be?  It  means 
little  lady,  does  it  not?" 

"  Yes.  Zeba  gave  me  the  name.  But  over  there,  at  Nuttagur, 
you  called  me  Haidee.     You  have  never  called  me  Haidee  here." 

"  Tommy  has  stopped,"  said  Hyland.  "  Let  me  help  you  down. 
Here  is  the  castle.  Haidee  !  How  dare  I  call  you  Haidee  ?  Over 
there  you  were  a  mere  child,  always  suffering.  I  never  siiw  your 
face  but  once,  and  then  only  your  eyes.  Poor  child  !  How  deeply 
did  I  pity  you  in  those  days !     Let  us  sit  down  here." 

"  Yes.  And  you  sent  all  the  way  from  the  mountains  the  remedy 
for  my  neuralgia.     How  kind  of  you !" 

"But  it  did  not  cure  you,  Be^be." 

"But  it  did,  sir!  Doctor  Leigh  said  I  should  not  take  it.  But 
I  had  your  written  directions.     See!   here  is  the  paper.     And  I 


308  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

weighed  the  quinine  myself  and  took  it — and  was  cured.     And  I 
have  never  told  it." 

"  Took  it !  Against  the  doctor's  instructions !"  said  Hyland, 
aghast. 

"  Yes.     Because  Sir  Hyland  sent  it,"  she  answered. 

"Sir  Hyland?" 

"  Yes.  You  have  always  been  Sir  Hyland  since  you  killed  the 
tiger.     Come !  let  us  sketch  that  buttress " 

"  Wait !  Here  is  the  other  picture,  Haidee.  When  I  took  it  I 
did  not  know  you.  When  I  saw  you  on  the  bridge  afterwards  I  did 
not  know  you.  But  when  I  looked  at  this  picture  I  knew  I  loved 
you ! " 

"  May  I  keep  it?"  said  Haidee,  demurely. 

"  Keep  it?  Ah,  no  !  All  the  wealth  of  the  world  could  not  buy 
it !  When  I  am  absent  from  you  I  look  at  this,  and  see  in  those 
beautiful  eyes  the  calm,  clear  light  of  your  pure  soul.  Do  you  know, 
Haidee,  that  those  eyes  enslaved  me  the  day  you  bound  up  my 
wounded  arm  over  there?  Up  in  the  mountains  they  haunted  me 
by  day  and  by  night.  And  yet  I  never  thought  of  you  as  my  pos- 
sible wife,  but  as  the  child  Haidee,  the  martyr  to  an  incurable  ail- 
ment. When  Doctor  Connor  told  me  of  his  drug,  I  was  frantic  with 
eagerness  until  I  could  convey  the  good  tidings  to  you." 

"  And  I  should  have  taken  it  if  all  the  doctors  in  India  forbade 
me !" 

"  Then,  when  I  heard  you  were  coming  to  England,  those  eyes 
brought  me  after  you.  I  was  not  much  disquieted  about  Miles. 
But  I  longed  for  you  !  When  I  came,  first,  I  heard  Daltman  was 
your  suitor.     And  the  picture  was  in  his  pocket!" 

"  He  stole  it,  the  wretch !"  said  Haidee,  and  then,  remorsefully, 
"  Poor  Mr.  Daltman  !" 

"  Don't  waste  pity  on  the  scoundrel !"  said  Hyland,  with  savage 
jealousy.  "  He  is  not  dead.  That  sort  of  rascal  don't  die !  We 
shall  hear  from  him  again." 

"  Why  did  you  throw  him  into  the  sea?"  said  Haidee,  suddenly. 
"  Ah  !  I  did  not  know  you  then  !  I  thought  you  were  the  drunken 
old  sailor.  If  you  had  only  spoken  then  I  should  have  gone  with 
you  and  Zeba.  Brave  Zeba !  He  has  been  under  my  window  every 
night — seven  nights  !" 

"  He  was  guarding  my  love!"  said  Hyland,  kissing  her  hand. 

"  1  heard  you  tell  him,  in  Hindoostanee,"  replied  Haidee,  slyly, 
"  and  I  hid.     It  was  very  bad  Hindoostanee,  too !    And  I  heard  you 


TULWAR  AND  PICTURE.  309 

talkiiijr  with  liiin  tin's  morninir.  I  tliou<rlit  you  niiijclit  come,  and  I 
was  watching  the  lane.     I  saw  you,  sir !" 

"Did  vou  know  how  I  loved  vou,  Haidce?" 

"  Annot  t(^ld  me.     Dear  Annot !     And  you  told  me." 

"  Wlien  did  I  tell  you?" 

"At  Clifton.     In  the  Town  Hall.     Don't  you  remember?" 

"  1  did  not  Siiy " 

"  Your  eyes  said  everything !  Papa  told  me  a  few  days  afterwards 
that  Mr.  Glendare  wanted  me.  It  was  all  a  mistake,  I  knew.  So 
I  did  not  tell  him  you  had  spoken  first." 

"Oh,  Haidee!  my  own  darling " 

"  When  you  killed  the  tiger — then  I  belonged  to  you.  I  said, 
*  This  is  Sir  Hyland.  My  knight !'  Juliet  laugiied  at  me  when  I 
forgot  and  called  you  Sir  Hyland.  I  never  told  any  one — except 
Annot.  You  know  she  is  my  own  cousin.  And  she  held  me  in 
her  arms  and  told  me  how  you  loved  me.  And  she  warned  me  not 
to  tell  you  that  I  should  inherit  Castledane.  She  said  you  Rayne- 
fords  were  prouder  than  the  Mordatints.  I  cannot  tell  you  any  more, 
sir !     That  is  the  third  time  you  have  kissed  me  !" 

"  Forgive  me  !"  said  Hyland,  penitently.  "  I  did  not  know — 
that  is — I  did  not  count.  Just  one  more,  and  then  I  will  never 
oifend  again,  until — oh,  Haidee,  my  love !  I  am  in  constant 
dread  lest  I  should  waken  and  find  all  this  only  a  delicious 
dream." 

"  Let  us  walk  here,"  said  Haidee,  rising ;  "  we  can  see  Tommy. 
May  I  have  Tommy  ?" 

"  You  own  me,  Haidee,  and  all  that  I  own.  Ha !  I  have  lost  a 
hundred  pounds,  by  this  light!" 

"  Where  ?  How  ?  You  have  not  been  away  from  this  buttress. 
Let  us  look." 

"  No  use,  Beebe.  I  lost  it  at  Nuttagur ;  at  the  base  of  the  Ob- 
servatory ;  out  on  the  sea ;  among  the  breakers  at  Linton  Sands.  I 
have  not  paid  it  yet.  But  I'll  pay  it  anon.  Before  we  face  the 
cold  world  again  strengthen  me  for  the  encounter." 

"I  do  not  understand,"  she  said,  turning  her  big  eyes  to  his. 

"Do  you  not?"  he  answered.  "Well,  I  mean  let  me  kiss  you 
just  once,  and  call  me  Hyland." 

"Just  plain  Hyland?"  she  asked,  doubtfully,  while  he  took  the 
first  part. 

"  Yes." 

"  Hyland !     But  I  shall  do  it  no  more.     Because  you  shall  go 


310  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

into  Parliament  and  get  your  title.  I  don't  want  you  to  be  Lord 
Rayneford.     But  you  must  be  Sir  Hyland.     Will  you  do  it  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  you  give  up  India  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  It  is  dreadful  to  be  telling  you  all  these  secrets ;  but  this  is  the 
last  one,  positively.  When  you  went  away  from  Nuttagur,  with 
your  arm  bound  up,  you  left  Zeba.  And  I  watched  him  wlnle  he 
recovered.  He  and  I  could  talk  Pracrit,  and  nobody  understood 
that  excej)t  Sista.  And  when  she  was  asleep  I  made  Zeba  tell  me 
many  things  about  you.  He  told  me  how  gentle  you  were,  how 
kind  to  him.  He  was  only  sergeant,  and  all  tlie  white  officers  were 
rude  to  him.  But  he  is  a  noble,  and  he  is  sensitive.  He  told  me 
you  had  never  wounded  him,  even  by  a  contemptuous  look  or 
gesture.  One  day  we  were  talking  in  the  shadow  of  the  bungalow, 
and  I  told  him  about  kniglithood  and  Avhat  I  understood  to  be 
included  in  it.  And  I  hinted  that  you  were  like  the  knights  of  my 
dreams.  *  Beebe,'  he  said,  '  I  call  these  English  sahib.  They  are 
the  lords  of  the  land,  whether  they  are  noble  or  not.  There  is  only 
one  sahib  in  India !  It  is  Sahib  Hyland.'  Then  he  told  me  about 
the  tulwar,  and  tried  to  draw  it  with  his  feeble  arm.  'Hyland  sahib 
was  Lord  of  the  tulwar.  So  long  as  the  blade  was  bright  Lord 
Hyland  was  well.'     All  foolish  superstition,  is  it  not?" 

"  Yes,  darling.     Certainly." 

"  Well,  every  day,  and  many  times  a  day,  I,  poor  Haidee,  ailing, 
morose,  and  stupid,  drew  out  the  sword  and  examined  the  blade. 
So  long  as  Zeba  was  near  enough,  I  consulted  the  tulwar.  And 
seven  times  a  day  in  the  past  seven  days  I  called  my  bodyguard  to 
me,  when  no  one  else  was  near,  and  bade  him  present  arms.  This 
morning,  when  you  came  under  my  window,  Zeba  was  only  perform- 
ing his  customary  duty,  when  he  unsheathed  his  weapon  and  pre- 
sented arms  to  you.  But  I  did  not  see  the  bright  blade  to-day.  I 
only  saw  you,  my  lord !  And  I  knew  you  had  travelled  through 
the  long  night  to  come  to  me." 

"  Haidee !  the  devotion  of  my  entire  life " 

"  Hyland  sahib !"  she  answered ;  "  give  me  the  tulwar,  and  you 
may " 

"What,  Haidee?" 

"  You  may  keep  the  Clifton  picture." 


L  ENVOI.  311 

CHAPTER    LII. 

L'Envoi. 

1  ETTERS  came  from  Mr.  Daltman  before  the  Christmas  holi- 
-'— ^  days  and  while  Ilaldce's  lioneymoon  was  still  full.  He  was 
residing  in  New  York,  ami  gradually  withdiawing  his  capital  from 
consols  and  from  his  Essex  estate,  and  was  investing  in  various 
American  enterprises.  He  wrote  only  to  Miss  Carey,  but  his  letters 
were  exhibited  to  Mrs.  Rayncford,  and  it  is  highly  probable  that  the 
Honourable  Mr.  Rayncford  was  acquainted  with  their  contents  also. 
There  was  a  full  and  very  truthful  account  of  the  abduction,  with  a 
confession  of  his  motives  and  purposes.  He  intended  to  take  Haidee 
out  to  sea,  if  necessary,  and  to  force  a  marriage.  Castledane  was  the 
chief  attraction,  he  acknowledged,  but  he  had  also  become  fascinated 
more  and  more  each  time  he  encountered  Haidee.  He  spoke  in  dis- 
contented tones  of  the  stringency  of  English  law,  and  boasted  of  the 
superior  civilization  of  America,  where  such  a  small  personal  exploit 
could  be  easily  rendered  legal  by  the  judicious  application  of  money. 
Divorce  laws  were  plenty,  and,  of  course,  there  could  be  no  difficulty 
about  establishing  a  legal  marriage.  When  Haidee  read  this  passage, 
her  teeth  clicked  together  like  the  snap  of  a  percussion-cap,  and  she 
privately  meditated  u})on  the  propriety  of  sending  Zeba  and  the  tul- 
war to  America  to  put  the  laxity  of  the  laws  to  the  proof. 

Hyland  quit  Kant,  Spinoza,  and  Compte,  and  took  a  course  of  read- 
ing uj)on  mill  management  and  finance.  It  was  the  constant  boast  of 
Brentam  Mills,  that  no  claim  against  the  corporation  that  was  a  week 
old  could  be  produced  in  the  world.  The  scrutiny  of  the  compli- 
cated accounts,  the  outlays  for  sui)j>lies,  and  the  income  from  sales 
engrossed  his  attention  three  days  in  each  month.  As  managing 
director  he  had  to  be  mayor  of  the  village,  and  being  mayor  he  was 
commissioned  as  justice  of  the  peace.  Then  there  came  a  time  when 
an  address  to  the  Crown  had  to  be  prepared  and  presented,  and  it 
was  part  of  his  official  duty  to  write  and  present  this  important 
document  in  Downing  Street.  The  consequence  was  knighthood, 
which  he  took  from  the  sword  of  the  prime  minister.  At  this  point 
Lady  Rayneford  protested  against  any  advance  in  rank.  He  was 
legally  Sir  Hyland,  and  this  was  the  summit  of  her  ambition.  But 
he  unfortunately  got  into  politics,  and  was  returned  to  Parliament  as 
member  for  the  borough  of  which  Brentam  Mills  was  a  part.  And 
he  has  never  been  able  to  shake  off  these  honours.    Twice,  and  under 


312  THE   CLIFTON  PICTURE. 

different  cabinets,  he  has  been  invited  to  accept  a  peerage,  and  Hai- 
dee  now  shakes  her  head  less  resolutely,  as  she  watches  the  antics  of 
Master  Mordaunt  Rayneford,  aged  ten,  and  reflects  that  the  knightly 
title  does  not  descend  from  father  to  son.  She  thinks  Lord  Castle- 
dane  might  still  be  plain  Sir  Hyland  to  her. 

Juliet,  the  adopted  daughter  of  Horace  Mordaunt,  and  real 
daughter  of  a  certain  Major  Landis,  who  died  in  India,  inherited 
the  London  house  under  the  colonel's  will,  together  with  enough 
rupees  in  various  Indian  stocks  to  make  her  independent,  and  also 
— to  make  her  suspicious  of  all  admirers.  She  still  lives  in  single- 
blessedness.  But  a  large  part  of  her  mansion  is  reserved  for  Sir 
Hyland  and  Lady  Rayneford's  frequent  visits,  and  the  amiable 
spinster  is  kept  in  perpetual  terror  lest  the  two  boys,  ISIordaunt  and 
Dane,  should  blow  the  walls  out  or  the  roof  off  at  some  unguarded 
moment. 

Brentam  Villa  is  closed  during  the  summer,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Glendare  are  in  the  Highlands.  In  the  winter  they  return  to  sweet 
Somerset,  and  at  Christmas  there  is  the  regular  reunion  at  Hawkley. 
Here  Zeba  is  in  his  glory,  with  the  boys  of  the  various  houses  de- 
pending upon  him  for  ghastly  stories  of  Indian  life,  while  another 
Beebe  Haidee  nestles  in  his  lap,  and  promises  to  mature  in  all  the 
loveliness  of  the  original  of  the  Clifton  picture. 


THE   END. 


f 


'i/8^ 


RARK  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THK  LIBRARY  OF  THK 

UNIVKRSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

Al 

CHAPKL  HILL 

Wilmer 
272 


